


True Colors

by DeathBelle



Series: Plumage [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Everyone Is A Dancer, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Getting Together, M/M, Slow Burn, alcohol use, strip club!au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:20:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 52,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23237587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeathBelle/pseuds/DeathBelle
Summary: Semi has danced at so many clubs that he hardly even notices a difference when he moves from city to city. It's always the same crowds no matter where he goes, and he always has to share a stage with the same backstabbing assholes. That's just how the club scene works, and he knows Plumage won't be any different.Except instead of talking shit and sabotaging him, the dancers at Plumage initiate a different sort of harassment that involves repeated attempts to befriend him and non-optional invitations out to dinner. It's almost worse this way, because at least in the past, Semi had known what to expect.The worst of them all is Tendou Satori, who is unrelenting in his pursuit of friendship, despite how many times Semi shoots him down. Tendou is obnoxious and never learned the art of taking a hint, and despite his best efforts, Semi gradually finds himself hating Tendou's company less and less. It's a perilous slope, and Semi keeps sliding.
Relationships: Semi Eita/Tendou Satori
Series: Plumage [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1670707
Comments: 403
Kudos: 707
Collections: Haikyuu!!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> And here we go again. I intend to post updates every Saturday!
> 
> This is a prequel to Plumage, and takes place about three years prior to that story. It also works as a standalone fic and can be read on its own.

Dancing was dancing. It didn’t matter where he was, or who was watching, or if anyone else was on stage. Dancing was always the same. It had been the same for the past three years, and it would be the same three years from now. A change of scenery made no difference.

That’s what Semi told himself, as he shrugged his bag higher onto his shoulder and stepped through the front door of Plumage, the neon sign burning in his vision even when he was inside. The entry booth was empty, and the inner door was propped open. Semi had some serious concerns about security, until he realized it had probably been left that way for him. It was too early for anyone else to arrive. The club didn’t open for another thirty minutes.

Semi started to step through, but hesitated. His gut lurched in a way he didn’t like. There was no reason to be nervous, not about this. This was exactly the same as the last club he worked, and the one before that. He’d done this for far too long to be anxious. 

Semi pulled the door open and swaggered through, hands stuffed in his pockets, bag bouncing against his thigh with every step. His hood was pulled low over his hair, blocking the furthest reaches of his peripheral vision, but he didn’t need it. One long glance at the inside of Plumage was all he needed to see: a bar against the far wall with a neat line of barstools, tucked out of the way; a stage in the direct center of the room, studded with three poles, every table and chair angled for the best view; a small collection of men gathered at one of the tables, some with drinks but most without, talking in low voices that immediately put Semi on edge.

He decided to ignore them. Instead, he started for the curtained door behind the stage, where the dressing rooms must have been. He made it halfway there before he was noticed.

“Yo, mysterious stranger! Hey! New guy!”

Semi scuffed to a stop at the voice and sliced a glare toward it that was sharp enough to cut.

The man who’d called out to him grinned back, unaffected. “No need to be dark and broody, we’re all friends here. Come on, grab a seat. Chill before it’s show time.”

“I’d rather not.”

“C’mon, lighten up a little. Have a drink. The bartender is late, as usual, but I’ll whip something up for you.” The man leaned back in his chair, a precarious tilt that should have sent him flailing into the floor. He was still grinning. It was unnerving. “What do you like? You look like a vodka kind of guy, am I right?”

Semi didn’t dignify that with a response. He continued toward the curtained door, and there was a distant scrape of a chair as one of the men broke away from the pack and approached. Semi turned, venom already on his tongue, but it wasn’t the annoying one. 

“I can show you where the dressing rooms are, if you’d like.” This man was smiling too, but in a way that was more polite than irritating. He was tall, well-built beneath a loose t-shirt. He had the look of an athlete more than a dancer. 

Semi hesitated, but said, “Sure.”

“Just through here.” The man beckoned him toward the door he’d already been approaching and pulled the curtain back to let him through. “These are the rooms we use for private dances. If you go that way, it’s a shortcut to the back alley. We take breaks out there sometimes. The dressing rooms are right through here, to your left. I’m Oohira, by the way. It’s nice to meet you.”

He said that as if he meant it, and Semi was immediately suspicious. He didn’t know what angle this stranger was playing, and he didn’t know what kind of name  _ Oohira  _ was supposed to be. It sounded like a real name, not a stage name, but of course he wouldn’t be stupid enough to give Semi a real name. 

Another voice chimed in, and Semi ground his teeth together.

“You have to use one of the group changing rooms, since you’re new.” The redhead from the table had followed them. He loped along behind Oohira, wearing that same annoying grin. “That’s where all the baby strippers go. If you stick around for a while, you might get upgraded. I have my own, since I’ve been here a while. I might let you use my room sometime for extra privacy, if you ask real nice.”

Semi didn’t even look at him. “I don’t need privacy.” 

“It’s this one,” said Oohira, indicating an unmarked doorway. Down the hall, there were several other doors; some blank like this one, some labeled with names. Semi could only see the closest one that read  _ Griffin  _ and  _ Falcon _ . 

“Thanks,” said Semi. He said it as dismissively as possible, so Oohira wouldn’t misunderstand and think he was actually grateful. He pushed his way into the room, which was surprisingly empty. The other dancers must have all been out front, either procrastinating or already dressed.

Mirrors were placed in strategic intervals along the walls, flanked by chairs or shelves or short stretches of countertops. Some of them had obviously already been claimed by bags spewing clothing and accessories, with an occasional scatter of glitter or makeup. There wasn’t much of it. Semi had worked alongside female dancers in the past, and their dressing rooms had been contained chaos.

There was a spot near the back of the room that seemed available, and when Semi approached, he saw why. There was a diagonal crack splitting the mirror in half, cutting right through his face when he looked into it.

That was fine. He didn’t need a mirror to show him how he looked. He already knew.

He plopped his bag down in the chair and tugged the zipper loose. With one quick yank his jacket was off, and he hung it on the top corner of the mirror. 

“Interesting hairstyle. Is that to make you look edgy, or…?”

“We’ll leave you alone to change,” said Oohira. “Ushijima is around somewhere, I’ll let him know you’re here. Come on, Tendou.”

Tendou. That sounded like a real name, too.

“Why? He said he doesn’t need privacy. Might as well see what our new competition looks like, right? Aren’t you- Okay, okay!” His voice cut off with a sharp yelp that sounded like he’d been physically removed from the room.

Semi peeled his shirt off and replaced it with the outfit of the night. Squeezing into all of the coordinating pieces wasn’t always easy, but Semi had done it enough times that he was an expert. 

He was lacing up his boots when there was a knock at the door, and a surprisingly polite request of, “May I enter?”

Semi looked around, half-convinced that the question was meant for someone else. But he was the only one there, so he said, “Yeah, sure.”

The door opened slowly and Ushijima Wakatoshi, owner of Plumage, peered inside. “Good evening. I see that you have already been given a tour of the establishment.”

Semi wouldn’t exactly call it a tour, but he didn’t argue. He knotted the laces of his boot and stood. “I was just getting dressed. I’m ready to start whenever you need me to.”

“There is no rush. The first hour is often quite slow. I will have the DJ add you into the rotation. Your stage name will be announced when it is your turn.” 

“Okay.”

Ushijima was looking at him, but despite the state of Semi’s undress, he wasn’t looking at him as if he was halfway naked. He didn’t have that sharpness in his stare that meant he was thinking about fucking Semi, which had been the problem with his last boss. Semi was a dancer; only a dancer. He didn’t cross the line into anything else.

“I am pleased that you have chosen to work here,” said Ushijima in the same steady tone. “I believe you will do well at Plumage. Inform me of any issues and they will be addressed.” 

“Yeah, thanks.”

Ushijima inclined his head and retreated, the door thumping shut in his wake.

That had gone better than expected. Ushijima had been perfectly polite when they’d met to talk about the job, but Semi had assumed that would change once he’d accepted the offer. In his experience, club owners viewed their dancers as profit rather than people.

Semi took a single look at himself in the mirror, ducking to avoid the crack through the glass. He looked the same as always, if a little pale. He blamed that on the lighting. He snagged his jacket before he left the room, pulling it on and leaving it hanging open. It was less to cover his body and more to cover his face, and he tugged the hood low as he returned to the main room of the club.

The music had started while he’d been in the dressing room. He’d heard it there, a distant thump bleeding through the walls. It was louder now, but not so loud that he couldn’t still hear the chatter of the other dancers’ voices. That meant the club still hadn’t opened for business, not officially, despite the few awkward patrons who’d filtered in and floated toward the bar, waiting for the show to start. When there was someone on stage, the music would be louder, consuming. That was true of every club; no exceptions.

From the corner of his eye, Semi caught sight of someone waving him over. Since it wasn’t Tendou, and because he could think of nowhere else to go, he went. Oohira gestured to an empty chair, and Semi obligingly sat. There were a few other men at the table. Semi felt their stares.

“It’ll be a little bit before we start,” said Oohira, nodding toward the stage as if there could have been any question as to what he meant. “The new guys go first, before there’s a big crowd, to get the poles warmed up. The guys who haven’t been dancing long, I mean. You’re new, but Ushijima says you’ve done this for a while. You’ll be mixed in with us.” 

Semi realized that by “us”, he meant the small collection of men at that particular table. There were others, spread out at a couple of other tables nearby, but these must have been the veteran dancers. 

“This is Yamagata,” said Oohira, introducing the man to his right. “And Kawanishi. He’s still fairly new, but he caught on quickly.” 

He kept talking, but Semi couldn’t focus. All he could think about was why he was hearing real names. 

“And the greatest dancer of all,” announced Tendou, as he arrived at the table and slouched into the chair across from Semi. “The prize of Plumage, and Wakatoshi’s personal favorite. Tendou Satori, at your service.”

Semi said nothing. He thought encouraging Tendou would be the worst possible decision he could make.

“What can we call you?” asked Oohira. 

The way he phrased the question was specific. He hadn’t asked for Semi’s name. That was good, because Semi wouldn’t have given it. “Phoenix.”

Tendou’s eyebrows shot up. “Phoenix! And here I was, thinking you would be too cool to stick with the club’s theme.”

“I don’t care about the theme,” said Semi. He sat back and folded his arms. “That’s always been my stage name. I’m not changing it.”

“I guess it’s just meant to be,” said Tendou loftily. He smirked, started to say something else, and faltered. His eyes dipped to the open front of Semi’s jacket. “Are you… Is that a  _ harness _ ?”

Semi resisted the urge to zip up his jacket. “Ushijima-san said I can wear whatever I want. Got a problem with it?”

Tendou blinked. He looked different without a grin. His eyes were too big for his face, hair a strange shade of red beneath the glow of the low lights. His head tilted to one side and he said, “Nope, no problem. None at all. Just didn’t know we’d turned into a bondage venue.”

Oohira said something to him, low enough that Semi couldn’t make out the words.

Tendou flapped a hand at him. “I’m not, I’m being friendly! Right, Phoenix? It’s weird calling you that, by the way. Are you gonna tell us your name or not?”

“No, I’m not.”

There was a bump of bass that Semi felt through the soles of his boots. The music swelled and a voice blended through, announcing the beginning of the night’s performances. More customers had trickled in, some of them at nearby tables, others flocking closer to the stage. Almost all of them had a drink in their hand. 

A dancer climbed onto the stage, and although the DJ announced his name, Semi forgot it as soon as he heard it. It didn’t matter to him. Nothing mattered until it was his turn.

“We do three songs at a time,” said Oohira, leaning close so Semi could hear him over the music. “Start at center, then rotate right. You’ll get about half an hour between sets to work the floor. If you go into the back for a private dance, they’ll put you back in the rotation when you’re finished.”

Semi said “Thanks,” but so quietly that Oohira probably hadn’t heard. It was helpful information, but Semi would have figured it out on his own. 

“You should be right after the newbies.” Tendou leaned halfway across the table, stretching like elastic. “What song do you want? I’ll have the DJ put it on for you.”

“I can dance to anything.”

“Yeah, but it’s a special occasion. Your first dance at Plumage. You wanna make it memorable, right?”

Semi wanted to say there was nothing memorable about it. He’d never worked at the same club for more than six months. He didn’t expect to be at this one any longer than that. But he also didn’t want word to get back to Ushijima that he’d sounded ungrateful, so he settled with, “It doesn’t matter. I like rock music. Something with a good beat.”

Tendou nodded, solemn, and slithered away from the table. “I’ll see what I can do.” With that he was gone, and Semi hoped he never came back.

“He means well,” said Oohira, smiling. “He’s worked here for a long time. He’s only here on the weekends now.”

That was the best news Semi had heard all night. It was Friday. If he could get through tomorrow, he’d at least get a break from Tendou.

Another dancer was announced, and as they climbed on stage, Semi realized that if Tendou only worked weekends, that meant he had something else to do on the other days. A different job, probably, one that didn’t involve taking his clothes off for strangers. Something financially supportive enough that he didn’t have to strip full-time.

Semi had strong feelings about that; particularly that if someone didn’t  _ need  _ this job, they should get off the stage and free up space for someone who did.

A few more songs played, different dancers cycling through with each one. Semi watched them, but once he realized they were no real competition, his attention waned. Maybe Oohira and the others at this table - the veteran dancers - would be a threat to him, but he doubted it. He’d never had a problem making money.

The DJ’s voice pumped through the speakers. “We have a special treat for you tonight! For the first time at Plumage, please welcome our newest dancer! He’s been on stages in Osaka, Kyoto, and Yokohoma, and now we’re proud to have him as a regular. Now to center stage, this is Phoenix!”

Semi was already at the stairs before the announcement was over, stripping off his jacket and tossing it aside as he mounted the stage. The floor was polished, reflecting the overhead lights that painted his skin in orange and yellow and purple. He took a breath and huffed it out as he stepped up to the middle pole. The crowd had thickened. The stage-side seats were almost full, a row of strangers staring up at him, waiting. 

He remembered the first time he’d done this. He’d been a wreck, so clammy with nervous sweat that he couldn’t get a solid grip on the pole at all. 

But that had been a long time ago, and Semi wasn’t the same person anymore.

The new song started, growing fresh from the last one, a riptide of gritty beats mixed with rough guitar. 

At least Tendou had done something right.

Semi curled a hand around the pole and kicked into a slow spin to test it. It was smooth; stainless steel, like he preferred, like all of them should be. The last club he’d worked at had brass poles, for some rich man’s aesthetic, and they’d been a nightmare. 

Semi ducked under his arm and twisted in a neat pirouette. He planted his boots and rolled himself in fluid waves, chest to hips, feeling the beat of the music. He swiveled, his back toward the audience, and bent over until his palms were on the floor. He trailed a hand up the inside of his leg, brushing dangerously close to the sliver of leather shorts that had already ridden up to reveal an indecent amount of skin. He stood slowly, looking back to make sure he had everyone’s attention.

Of course he did. Phoenix always did.

He gripped the pole and flipped himself upside down, as easy as breathing, legs kicked over his head and then hooking to pull himself up. He hit a pose, knees spread, hands traveling up his chest and briefly tugging at the harness before regripping as he swiveled. He pushed a hand through his hair, slowly, as he spiraled back toward the floor, landing on his knees, spreading them wide enough that no one could look anywhere else. He rocked his hips in rhythm with the music, head thrown back, lip caught between his teeth. He yanked at the harness again, harder, and curled his other hand between his legs.

Perfectly on cue, there was a shower of money, falling like feathers onto the stage. Semi crawled closer to the ledge, hands sliding through the bills. He rolled over his shoulder, onto his back, and spread his legs into a full split.

He didn’t have to look to know there was more money now. He felt some of it against his bare thighs, an eager flutter. His boots thumped together in midair and he flipped onto his stomach, rolling his hips against the floor in the most suggestive way. There was more money, a lot of it. It was all that Semi could see.

The DJ’s voice chimed in as the song wound down, announcing another dancer’s arrival on stage. Semi scooped up the money that had been thrown at him and collected it into a messy pile. He spared a half-smirk for the man who’d generously tossed in a 5000-yen note. Semi would track him down as soon as his rotation on the stage was over. He had a feeling he’d just found his first private dance.

Semi stood and moved toward his right, to begin the second dance of this set, but an onlooker in the audience caught his eye.

Tendou was standing in the middle of the floor, as if he’d been going somewhere and had abruptly lost his way. He was staring at the stage – at Semi, in particular – his wide eyes even wider. It was difficult to tell in the strange light of the stage, but it almost seemed that his face was beginning to turn a similar shade as his hair.

Maybe he’d watched Semi’s dance and had decided to take him seriously. Maybe he realized that Semi wasn’t just an amateur dancer who would be happy with a few hundred yen here and there. Semi was there to make money, and as he put his first handfuls of cash aside to start his next dance, he promised himself that he’d make more than anyone else.

It was a typical night at work, regardless of the new club. Everything was the same; it was always the same. The customers looked at him in the same way. He said the same things to lure them into the back for a private dance. They tried the same sly tricks to try and get more than he offered, more than the rules allowed, and Semi turned them down, the same as always. 

After the first couple of years, he’d found comfort in the routine of it. It was repetitive, but predictable. He always knew what to expect.

When the night was winding down, and only a few devoted or desperate customers remained, Semi left the back room after his last private dance, tucking a wad of yen into the inside pocket of his jacket. He’d already mentally calculated how much of the profit he would have to give to Ushijima at the end of the night. It was quite a bit, but not nearly as much as it would have been at his last gig, where the boss had demanded fifty percent of everything. Ushijima’s percentages were much more reasonable. There was some sort of catch, there had to be. Semi just hadn’t discovered it yet.

“There you are,” said Oohira, as Semi emerged. Oohira had clearly just left the stage. He was wearing only a jockstrap stuffed full of yen. “Ushijima was looking for you. He’s behind the bar.”

Semi dipped his head in acknowledgment and started to step past him.

“You’re a good performer,” said Oohira, drawing him short. “The customers really like you. I think you’ll fit in just fine. Glad you’re here with us.” He patted Semi on the shoulder, amiably, before slipping past the curtain, probably to go to his dressing room.

Semi stared after him. He tried to puzzle out Oohira’s motive for saying that, but couldn’t come up with anything. It had seemed genuine.

Shaking his head, Semi moved past the stage, on which only one tired dancer was still performing, and approached the bar. Ushijima was there, wiping off the counter. Unfortunately he wasn’t alone.

“Look who it is,” said Tendou, too loudly. He was perched on one of the barstools, feet kicking idly. He’d dressed in a pair of sweatpants, which was comforting. For the entirety of the night he’d been prancing around the club in nothing more than a g-string. “The great and mysterious Phoenix lasted through the night.”

Semi didn’t acknowledge him. He climbed onto a barstool several seats down and dipped a hand into his pocket to retrieve his earnings. He wrangled the money into a semi-neat pile with difficulty. He counted in his head as he separated the bills. “Here’s your cut, Ushijima-san. I had sixteen private dances. With that total, divided by-”

“Sixteen?” said Tendou, cutting him off. “You had  _ sixteen _ ?”

“Yeah, so?” snapped Semi. “It’s my first night here. I don’t have a client base yet.”

Tendou gaped at him, then looked to Ushijima. “Sixteen, Wakatoshi. Did you hear that?”

Semi bit his tongue and pushed a pile of money across the counter. He didn’t want to argue with another dancer in front of the boss.

Ushijima stared down at the cash, only briefly, before nudging it back. “I do not collect a cut from my dancers on their first night here. Consider it a welcome gift. You may pay your percentage beginning tomorrow.”

Semi stared up at him, baffled. He wanted to say something, but couldn’t think of a single word. 

Tendou slipped onto the stool beside him, eyeing the stack of yen. “Sixteen private dances on your first night. That has to be a record. We should get him a certificate of achievement, Wakatoshi. Hang it on the dressing room wall.”

Slowly, Semi gathered the money together again. He waited for Ushijima to change his mind, or to say he was joking. When he didn’t, Semi tucked it back into his jacket. 

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.” Tendou half-draped himself onto the bar that Ushijima had just wiped down. “With the way you dance, I mean.”

Semi tried to pick out the insult beneath those words but couldn’t find it. Tendou was grinning, but it didn’t seem to be in a mocking way. Maybe that was his version of a compliment.

Semi had watched Tendou dance, too. He’d been a little curious, because Tendou didn’t look like any dancer he’d ever seen. He was more graceful than expected, almost in a classical sort of way, as if he’d learned in a studio somewhere. He had perfect lines and smooth lifts, but when he tried to dance dirty, or do floorwork, he was almost spastic. 

“Also your nipples are pierced,” said Tendou, vaguely pointing. 

Semi’s eyes went narrow. “I know. I was there when it happened.”

Tendou snorted an ugly laugh. “I’m just saying, that’s attractive, probably. To the customers, I mean. All the piercings.” He gestured at Semi’s face. “And your tongue. Is your tongue pierced, too?”

Semi pointedly kept his lips sealed shut as he slid off of the barstool. “Am I done, then?” he asked Ushijima.

“Yes.” Ushijima loaded some glasses into the dishwasher beneath the counter. “We will open at the same time tomorrow.”

“Okay. Thanks.” Semi started toward the back room, to retrieve his bag.

He’d intended to go alone.

“So a pretty successful first night, then,” said Tendou, tagging along after him. “I remember my first night at Plumage. I fell on my ass. Twice.”

“Why are you following me?” asked Semi flatly, as he pushed through the curtain.

“Just making sure you feel welcome. That’s what friends are for.”

“We’re not friends.”

“Not yet,” said Tendou, grinning. “Give it time.”

“I don’t need friends. Not here. This is just a job.” Semi pushed open the door to the dressing room. There were three other men inside, but he ignored them all to duck into the far corner to fetch his bag. He yanked his sweatpants on, not bothering to completely change out of his dancing clothes. 

“Just a job,” said Tendou, because of course he’d followed. He propped himself up against the wall and watched Semi struggle to shove his boots through the legs of his pants. “That doesn’t mean you can’t have fun at  _ just your job _ .”

“It’s not about fun. It’s about money.” Semi finally fought his sweatpants into place. He zipped up his jacket, pulled on his hood, and grabbed the strap of his bag. “If you think otherwise then you’re the one with fucked up priorities, not me.”

Tendou hummed to himself, unoffended, as he followed Semi out of the room. “Maybe so, but I doubt it.”

Semi kept walking.

“See you soon then, Phoenix.” Tendou finally came to a stop, waving Semi off with that same irritating grin. “Maybe you’ll be in a better mood tomorrow!”

“Don’t count on it,” said Semi, mostly to himself, as he left the club.

All things considered, it hadn’t been the worst first night he’d ever had. 


	2. Chapter 2

Semi’s first week at Plumage slipped by quickly, and he had to admit that he didn’t hate it.

The club was always busy, even on weekdays, and that was how Semi liked it. Dancing for anything less than a full audience somehow felt like a waste, but he didn’t have to worry about that, not here. The seats at stage side were always full, and when Semi danced, the men sitting further back at the tables tended to migrate closer, too. They were drawn in like moths. When he was off the stage, he could practically choose a victim for a private dance. He could tempt anyone into the back room with a few select words and an “accidental” shift of his hips as he draped himself across a stranger’s lap. 

After years of practice, it wasn’t even a challenge anymore.

He couldn’t even say that he hated his fellow dancers, although he’d been prepared to do just that. He’d met a few good people in the past, but most of them would have slit his throat and left him to bleed out if it meant collecting his tips for the night. He’d thought that was just how business went, in this line of work.

He was beginning to think he’d just worked at all the wrong places.

When he left the stage after his fourth round on Friday night, exactly a week after he’d started, Yamagata was waiting for him.

“Dude.” Yamagata hadn’t talked to him much, up until then. He’d seemed a little wary. Semi didn’t mind. He preferred that reaction, actually.

Semi shuffled his money into a neater pile and waited for him to continue.

Yamagata seemed to struggle with himself and finally said, “That thing you just did. You’ve gotta show me how to do that.”

Semi raised an eyebrow as he slipped his jacket back on and tucked the money into the inside pocket. “What thing?”

Yamagata made a meaningless gesture. “That… thing. Where you were upside down and you had your leg up here and you just like…  _ That  _ thing.”

“Bird of Paradise,” said Semi. He started to pull his hood on, but stopped himself. He preferred to have it shielding him, but the customers didn’t, and he wanted at least a dozen more private dances that night. 

Yamagata’s brows pulled together as he frowned. He was shorter than Semi, just a little. “You have to show me how to do that.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s the most badass thing I’ve ever seen,” said Yamagata, with absolute seriousness. “I don’t know if my leg will go over my head like that but I have to fucking try. Will you teach me?”

Semi wasn’t sure what to say to that. He wanted to decline on general principle, but the intensity of Yamagata’s stare and the earnestness of the request made him pause. There was no harm in it. If Yamagata was truly desperate, he could learn the same thing off of an internet tutorial. Besides, Semi didn’t think Yamagata could do it, anyway. His dancing was mostly floorwork. He only used the pole as an afterthought. 

“Yeah, okay,” said Semi after a brief deliberation. “After closing tonight. If you hurt yourself, I’m not responsible.”

Yamagata nodded, solemnly, and extended a fist. 

It took Semi a second too long to realize what he wanted, and he slowly reached out to bump his own fist against it. 

A grin split Yamagata’s face. “You’re super cool, dude. I’ll buy you a drink or something. Only if you’re a good teacher, though.” He stepped past Semi to climb the stage himself, sidestepping the pole completely to drop onto the floor at the edge of the stage.

Semi watched him for a minute, reflecting on that interaction, before shaking it off and returning to the crowd.

That was what he’d intended to do, at least.

“Hey there, Phoenix! Haven’t seen you all night. Almost feels like you’re avoiding me.” Tendou had crept up on him when he’d been distracted. He was as chaotic as ever, his hair styled into a spiky mess, bony body bare except for an insubstantial g-string and a pair of high-top sneakers.

Semi didn’t understand how Tendou had become a stripper. He wasn’t the usual type; not even close.

“The guys say you’ve been doing just fine,” continued Tendou, when Semi didn’t answer. “They said you spend more time in the back than you do out here. You know how to win some hearts, huh?”

Tendou had been gone since last Saturday, doing whatever it was that he did as a normal job. Semi still thought he had no business there on the weekends, as if this was a hobby for him. 

“I’m just doing my job,” said Semi.

Tendou hummed, head tilting. “And doing it better than all the rest of us.” That should have sounded bitter, accusatory, but it was more of an interested observation. “You haven’t stopped since the club opened four hours ago. Take a break. Sit down for a minute. I’ll get you a drink.”

“I don’t need a break,” said Semi. “I don’t get paid during breaks. I have a private dance waiting.”

Tendou looked around, a touch too theatrically. “Oh? I don’t see anyone waiting for you.”

Semi rolled his eyes. “That guy in the corner. The one with the tailored clothes. He’s buying a private dance. He just doesn’t know it yet.”

Tendou followed his stare. “I hate to burst your optimistic little bubble, but that guy is here all the time and never does anything more than sit there. No tips, no dances, no nothing. Don’t waste your time.”

“You just haven’t tried hard enough,” scoffed Semi. “He hasn’t found the right person to spend his money on. Too bad for you, it’s me.”

“Whatever you say. Don’t come crying to me when he turns you away.”

“He won’t. No one turns me away.”

Tendou considered him, mouth twisting to one side in thought. He scratched at the back of his hair, and a slow smile tilted his face. “Wanna make a bet?”

“No. That’s stupid.”

“Okay then, if you’re scared to lose.”

Tendou was baiting him. Semi knew it. He knew he should shrug it off and walk away. It was stupid to do otherwise.

But he couldn’t stand the way Tendou was looking at him, smug, like he was about to win something. 

“Fine,” said Semi, through his teeth. “What do I get when I win?”

“I’ll buy a private dance from you,” said Tendou, with no hesitation. “At double price.”

Semi thought about that. The usual private dance fee was good. Doubled, it was a great amount. He might not even have to give Ushijima a cut, if the money came from one of the other dancers. “Deal.”

“Aren’t you gonna ask what I get if you lose?”

“No,” said Semi, already walking away. “I won’t lose.”

Tendou laughed, a low chuckle that Semi barely heard over the loud music. He didn’t look back. It didn’t matter.

He weaved through the crowd, looking straight toward his goal so no one else could catch his eye. He let his jacket slip a little, his shoulders peeking out, the harness strapped around his chest cutting dark against his skin. He approached the corner table, where the rich man sat alone, nursing a drink and watching the stage.

“Hi. I’m Phoenix. Can I sit?”

The man looked at him, assessing, before returning his attention to the stage. He waved a hand, more in indifference than permission. 

Semi sat anyway. He leaned back in the chair, casual, one elbow resting on the table between them. He studied the rich man, who still wasn’t looking at him. There was some sort of approach that would work here. Semi just needed to figure out which one. 

He considered for a minute, weighed his options. He felt Tendou watching him from across the room, waiting.

Semi made a decision with a sigh, one loud enough that his new target could hear. He let more of his weight slouch onto the table and flicked a glance at the rich man. “Is it cool if I just talk to you for a minute? Boss wants us to look busy all the time and I’m exhausted, trying to keep up with these guys.” He made a vague gesture at the other customers, either gathered around the stage or mingling with other dancers at the tables. “Always wanting something, you know? They can’t just sit back and enjoy the show every now and then. They’re too needy.”

None of that was true. Semi loved when customers approached him for dances. It was easy money. 

But this stranger didn’t know that.

Finally the man looked at him. Semi gave him a half-smile, kind of weary and kind of shy.

His eyes lingered, appraised, and slowly returned to the stage. “Sure. You can talk.”

Semi’s grin grew a little sharper. He tossed a smug glance across the club and hoped Tendou had collected enough in tips to cover double the fee of a private dance. 

It didn’t take long. After five minutes of conversation, the man agreed to a lapdance. Immediately after that he requested a trip to the private rooms, without any prompting. Semi continued to work the angle that this stranger was doing him a favor by giving him some decent company. It was all a matter of stroking his ego in exactly the right way. Semi had done it a hundred times before.

When they returned from the private room, Semi touched the rich man’s wrist, lightly, and thanked him for his time. There was a spark in the stranger’s eyes that suggested this wasn’t the last that Semi would see of him.

That was a good thing. He’d given a very generous tip.

Semi looked around for Tendou, ready to gloat, but he was on the stage, just beginning his third dance of this rotation. He would be finished soon, too soon for Semi to go looking for another customer. Instead he went to the stage and plopped in the only vacant chair on that side, between two strangers who seemed startled by his presence. Semi ignored them. He folded his arms and stared up at Tendou, one eyebrow raised.

Tendou ascended the pole and pulled himself into a perfect split flush against it, one foot almost brushing the floor, the other extended so high that the line went on forever. 

Semi wasn’t impressed. He could do the same thing.

Except he wasn’t nearly that flexible, despite years of stretching. 

Tendou pulled himself up neatly and gently floated back down. Belatedly he noticed Semi, and went still for a full second before resuming his dance. He flipped upside down and hit another split midair, and again the shape was flawless. He had a lot of control, more than most of the dancers Semi had worked with. Everything he did was precise, textbook.

At least, until he slithered off of the pole and started doing floorwork. Then it was just clumsy.

Tendou traveled along the rail, collecting tips from the audience. He paused in front of Semi, went up on his knees, and walked his fingers up the inside of his thigh, toward the bulge of his g-string. He was grinning, always grinning. “No tips for me? That’s just rude.”

Semi rolled his eyes and flipped a 1000 yen bill at him. He would collect it back soon enough. “Meet me in the back. You owe me some money.”

Tendou gave him a mock salute before sliding over to the next customer.

Semi slipped out of his chair and pulled the hood of his jacket low, keeping his head down as he pushed past the curtain toward the private rooms. Yamagata was just leaving with a satisfied customer in tow. He offered Semi a grin and a pat on the shoulder as he passed by, as if they were friends who’d shared more than one short conversation.

Semi had already forgotten he was supposed to teach Yamagata that move after closing. He considered continuing to forget, and leaving the club through the back door. He wasn’t getting paid to help his coworkers get better.

But Yamagata wasn’t that bad. He didn’t seem like the type to steal Semi’s moves and use them to steal his profit.

“You’re a stingy tipper,” said Tendou, emerging from the curtain with a flourish. He was still nearly naked, a handful of yen poking out of his g-string and a pair of sweatpants tossed uselessly over his shoulder. “I should’ve known.”

“Maybe I’d tip better if your floorwork was better,” said Semi. “Come on, you’re the one who should be paying me.”

“Oh, I’m  _ so sorry _ . I forgot I was in the presence of the amazing Phoenix, whose greatness can’t be matched by us peasants. Please, great master, lead the way. It’s an honor to breath the same air as you.” He dropped into a mocking bow and gestured toward the private rooms. 

Semi rolled his eyes and smacked Tendou’s arm out of his way. “You’re the one who wanted to make a bet. I tried to say no. Don’t whine because you lost.”

When Tendou popped upright again, he was grinning. “You have no sense of humor. I should’ve known that, too. You won fair and square, though. I still don’t understand how. You’re not exactly charming.”

“Yeah, because you’re not paying me to be charming,” said Semi. He pushed open the door of the nearest private room and held it open with his shoulder, shoving his hands into his pockets as Tendou entered. The door slapped shut behind them. “I only make people like me when I need to.”

“Right, because being nice to make friends is a foreign concept.” Tendou plopped down on the couch, sprawled comfortably. 

“I don’t need friends,” said Semi. He felt like they’d had this conversation before. “This is just a job.”

“You have weird priorities. Has anyone ever told you that?”

“No. So will you just pay up or are you actually going to make me dance for you?”

Tendou lounged back, arms folded behind his head. “I don’t remember promising free money. I said I’d buy a dance.”

Semi rolled his eyes and slouched over to the speakers. As he chose a song, he said, “I’m not doing it unless you put your pants back on.”

Tendou laughed, a high-pitched cackle that was like nails splintering on a chalkboard. “Why’s that? Is my nudity intimidating? Are you afraid you won’t be able to resist?”

Semi sliced a glare over his shoulder. Tendou was grinning at him, but he was also putting his pants on, so Semi let it go.

“You have the same rules as anyone else,” said Semi. The song started, the first few notes low and dirty. “If you break them I’ll stop and you still have to pay me.”

Tendou settled back, and he was much easier to look at now that he was only shirtless. He struck the same pose again, arms behind his head, and said, “Come on now, I’ve never broken a single rule in my entire life.”

That was the most obvious lie that Semi had ever heard. Still, he wanted the money, and he didn’t think Tendou would do anything shady. He was annoying, but not dangerous. 

Semi stepped closer to him, standing just in front of Tendou’s knobby knees. Semi pushed a hand through his hair and used the motion to throw off his hood. He kept his jacket on, hanging loose at his shoulders, gaping open to show the harness cinched tight around his chest. When he’d danced for the rich man, he’d gone about it in a different way. He’d talked first, asked questions and pretended to be interested in the answers, laughed low and sweet when the man had said anything resembling humor.

He didn’t do that for Tendou. It didn’t matter if Tendou liked him or not. He would get paid the same either way.

The beat dropped, a low kick blended with heavy bass and a growling guitar. Semi rolled his hips in slow circles, let his hand fall out of his hair to trace his neck, his chest, his waist. His thumb caught in the edge of his tight leather shorts and he dragged them down, just an inch, then two, before letting them snap up again. He turned, his back to Tendou, and slowly let the jacket drip away from his shoulders. He caught it by a sleeve and tossed it away, the air of the private room cool against his bare skin. He bent at the waist and planted his hands on the floor, ready to slam a kick behind him if Tendou took advantage of his position and reached for him. But Tendou didn’t, and Semi swiveled his legs, tiny motions that made his ass bounce in the tight squeeze of his shorts. He stood slowly, dragging a hand from the back of his ankle to his knee and caressing the back of his thigh. He flicked his head back as he rose - a habit he’d picked up from the women he’d recently worked with, although he didn’t have quite enough hair to flip – and cocked a hip as he turned back around.

Tendou was sitting in the exact same spot, but his arms had fallen to his sides. He watched as Semi stepped closer, large eyes stuck to him as Semi leaned over him to grip the back of the couch, one hand above either of Tendou’s shoulders. Semi dipped into body rolls, chest to stomach to hips, hovering just above Tendou as he did it. 

The music shifted, grew grittier, and Semi straddled Tendou. He braced a knee on one side of Tendou’s lap and a boot on the other, pushing himself half-upright, thrusting his hips in smooth little rolls directly in front of Tendou’s face. 

He’d thought he would be teased through the entire dance, but Tendou didn’t say a word, not until it was over.

The song ended, and Semi slid back to his feet. He’d gone the entire song without touching Tendou a single time. Usually there was at least a little bit of friction when he danced on someone’s lap, but usually he was trying to impress his customer. 

“There’s your dance,” said Semi, crouching to grab his jacket out of the floor. “Pay up.”

He expected a playful argument, or some sort of snarky comment, but again there was only silence. Tendou pulled a handful of yen out of his sweatpants pocket and offered it. Semi flipped through the bills, counting in his head, before tucking the money away. 

“You ever want to make a bet again, let me know,” said Semi. “That’s the easiest money I’ve made all night.”

Tendou laughed, but it was short and choppy, almost forced. “Yeah, sure.”

Semi eyed him, but said nothing. He pulled his hood back on and went to disconnect the speaker.

“So, uh…” Tendou seemed hesitant. “Where’d you learn to dance like that?”

Semi squinted at him. He wondered if Tendou was about to make a joke, or criticize him, but it didn’t seem like it. Tendou had settled back, his arms folded across his bare chest, looking up at Semi with a slight tilt of his head. 

“I started at my first club when I was seventeen,” said Semi. He pulled his hood a little lower. “The other dancers treated me like shit, but I learned from watching them. Anytime I was around female dancers, they always seemed to like me. They taught me a lot.”

“Seventeen?”

Semi shrugged. “Fake ID. I needed the money.”

“Weren’t you like… in school or something?”

“I wasn’t too stupid to graduate, if that’s what you’re asking,” snapped Semi. He fumbled at his jacket and yanked the zipper midway up his chest. 

“That’s not what I meant!” said Tendou, waving his hands. “I was just wondering. I guess it’s not my business.”

“You’re right. It’s not.”

Tendou frowned, and it looked strange on his face. “Thanks for the dance.”

“You paid me. You don’t have to thank me.” Semi started across the room, wondering how much time he would have before it was his turn on stage. It would probably be any minute, as soon as the DJ saw him leave the back room.

“Hey, Phoenix?”

Semi paused with one hand on the door. “What?”

“Did you mean what you said earlier?” Tendou’s voice was low, less abrasive than usual.

Semi turned. Tendou was looking at him, a crease across his brow, mouth tucked into a flat line. 

“What’re you talking about?”

“When you said my floorwork should be better,” said Tendou.

Semi tried to keep his face as neutral as his voice when he said, “I was joking.”

Tendou’s head tilted to the side. “I don’t think you were. No sense of humor.”

Semi sighed. His hand fell away from the door as he swiveled to face Tendou. “You’re too stiff. You’re good on the pole, but floorwork isn’t the same. It’s not technical. It doesn’t matter what your lines look like. You have to feel it.”

Tendou blinked up at him. He still hadn’t moved off the couch. “You think I’m a good pole dancer? I’m flattered.”

“You’re not bad,” said Semi. “Just not as good as you could be. You’re thinking too much.”

Tendou bobbed his head. “Alright. I’ll work on that.”

The conversation was over. Semi turned to leave and was halfway through the door before he stopped again. 

He should’ve just walked away. It wasn’t his responsibility to give Tendou advice. He owed him nothing. 

Still, he looked back and said, “Record yourself sometime, when you’re alone. Do what you usually do. Then take some shots, play some really dirty music, and do it again. When you let yourself go instead of thinking about everything you’re doing, you’ll see the difference.”

Tendou seemed surprised. He blinked, hesitated, and said, with a smile softer than his usual taunting grin, “Thank you.” 

Semi waved off the gratitude. He didn’t need it. He returned to the main area of the club and waited for his name to be called.


	3. Chapter 3

Semi had thought, with Tendou’s quieter demeanor following the private dance, that maybe he’d decided to be less annoying. 

When he showed up for his shift the following night, Semi realized he’d been wrong.

“The great and majestic Phoenix!” announced Tendou, the moment Semi walked through the door. “We are all blessed by his presence!”

Semi flipped him off and went to the dressing room to change.

It was a usual night at the club. Semi danced on stage, danced in men’s laps, and danced in the private rooms. He collected handfuls of money, shoved it inside his jacket, and went to dance some more. It was no different from the endless nights he’d spent at other clubs. His life was an eternal cycle of sleeping and dancing. There was hardly anything in between.

At least Plumage was cleaner than a lot of his past venues. He reflected on this as he went to his knees in a private room, slid his hands up a stranger’s thighs, and stopped the instant that the song ended in the background. He’d timed it just right.

“You’re a tease,” said the man, but he was smiling. He slipped Semi some yen and a  _ thank you  _ before rising to leave the private room. Semi followed him out, and was intercepted in the hallway.

“Hey there, Phoenix. Fancy meeting you here.” Tendou’s grin was as irritating as ever.

Semi frowned at him. He’d never seen Tendou take a customer into the private rooms. He’d never even seen Tendou speak to a customer, except low murmurs from the stage when they handed him money. He spent most of the time between dances at the bar, if Ushijima was there, or at a random table in the crowd, watching the stage.

Semi suspected Tendou was only in the back hallway to look for him.

“You knew I was back here,” said Semi flatly. “What do you want?”

“So cold,” said Tendou, still grinning. “I don’t know how you convince all the customers you’re friendly.”

“I’m good at my job.” Semi shoved his hands in his pockets and repeated, “What do you want?”

Tendou studied him, a little too closely. “You always assume someone wants something from you. That’s gotta be exhausting, thinking that way.” 

Semi just stared at him.

“Anyway,” said Tendou, “I wanted to invite you to go out with us after the club closes tonight. We go to this izakaya down the street. Usually on Friday nights, but they’re having some really good drink specials tonight. It’s a nice place. Really chill.”

“No.”

Semi made it two steps before Tendou fell in beside him, keeping pace easily. 

“C’mon, Phoenix. It’ll be fun. All the regular dancers go.”

“Then why are you going?” said Semi. “You’re only here on weekends.” 

He’d intended it as an insult, at least a little, but Tendou wasn’t bothered.

“Because I’m sociable and entertaining,” said Tendou. “You could work on both of those things.”

“I don’t waste my time around other people unless I’m getting paid.”

“I’ll buy your drinks, then. That’s a fair compromise.”

Semi scuffed to a stop, right before they reached the curtain separating them from the main floor. The pulse of the music beyond was loud, but not as loud as it was from the stage. He squinted up at Tendou, trying to work out why he was offering, what he wanted. “Why would you do that?”

Tendou shrugged. “You’re part of Plumage now. You should hang out with us. Get to know us, you know? It’s easier to be friends with the people you work with than to isolate yourself.”

“It’s worked for me so far.”

“Maybe it’s time to change that.”

“You don’t know anything about it.”

“No,” said Tendou, “I don’t. You won’t even tell me your name. How am I supposed to know anything else about you?”

“Why do you even care?”

“Like I said, you’re part of the team now.” Tendou shrugged, a little awkward. “It’s a weird job sometimes. It’s easier if you have people backing you up, you know? People to look out for you.”

“I can look out for myself.”

“I never said you can’t.”

“You’re annoying as fuck, you know that?” said Semi, with a little more heat than was necessary.

Tendou’s grin was small, muted. “Yeah, I’ve heard that before. So are you coming or what?”

Semi didn’t understand Tendou at all, why he was even asking, why he continued to ask, even when Semi was blunt and rude. It didn’t make any sense. “If I agree, will you leave me alone?”

Tendou’s grin curved a little higher. “I won’t speak to you again until closing. You won’t even know that I exist.”

“Fine,” said Semi. “But I’m only going for the free drinks.”

“It’s a start,” said Tendou, still grinning. “When the doors close, I’ll wait for you out front and show you where the izakaya is. Come find me when you’re ready.” With that, he ducked through the curtain, leaving Semi staring after him.

He was still confused by the entire situation, but he thought it might be easier to go along with Tendou’s invitation rather than argue with him. Besides, he could show up, have a couple of free drinks, and go home. He didn’t have to stay, and he didn’t have to speak to anyone. 

The best part was that he didn’t have to deal with Tendou at all for the next four hours until the club closed. Despite his unpredictability, Semi thought Tendou would keep his distance, as promised.

The night progressed smoothly, and Tendou’s promise was half-fulfilled. He didn’t speak to Semi a single time. He hardly even looked at him.

But Semi still knew that he existed, as much as he tried not to.

Tendou was on stage, flowing around the pole with flawless spins and clean lines. It was ridiculous, how graceful he could be, considering how awkward he was in person. Semi again wondered where he’d learned to dance, because it obviously hadn’t been at a club like this.

When Tendou slid off of the pole to his knees, he arched into a backbend and then up, hips moving in smooth rolls, knees spread. He rolled onto his shoulder and spread his legs, grinning at his audience from between them, then slowly raised himself up on his elbows, legs falling into a full split with ease.

It wasn’t the way Semi danced, with filth and grit and sex. But it wasn’t the way Tendou had danced the night before either, when he’d looked like he was trying to mimic something unsuited for him. It was smoother, more like his pole work, more like him. 

Clearly he’d taken Semi’s advice. Semi wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

He blinked, and realized he was supposed to be flirting with the stranger across the table. He shook himself, hitched on a grin, and leaned close to murmur to him. Five minutes later he was on his way to a private room, and he refused to let himself look at the stage as he passed by.

It seemed like only fifteen minutes had ticked away when the club was closing. There were a few last-minute stragglers, but even they were on their way out, likely prompted by Ushijima’s pointed stare from behind the bar where he was cleaning up. The dancers had finished, but Yamagata was on the stage, struggling to get into the bird of paradise that Semi had taught him the night before. He’d done better than Semi had expected, but he needed a little more flexibility before it would look good on him. 

Semi doled out Ushijima’s percent of his private dance profits, passed it over to him, and headed toward the dressing room. Ushijima didn’t count it in front of him, or ask how many dances he’d done that night. He’d never asked, unlike Semi’s past employers. It was a different sort of feeling, to have his boss trust him.

He passed by the other dancers, in various stages of undress, and dug through his bag in the back corner. He pulled on his sweatpants, zipped up his jacket, and turned to leave before he remembered he wasn’t going directly home. He hesitated and glanced down at himself. His harness was covered, but if he wanted to take off his jacket later, everyone in the izakaya would stare at him. He only liked that sort of attention when he was on the stage.

He stripped his jacket back off and fumbled with the buckles on the harness, fighting his way out of it and shoving it into his bag. He replaced it with a faded band t-shirt and pulled his jacket back on, hood pulled over his hair. His eyeliner was smudged – he knew that without even looking in the mirror – but he didn’t care enough to try and fix it. He grabbed his bag and left the dressing room, headed toward the front of the club, regretting that he’d agreed to this.

He had a fleeting hope that Tendou had forgotten and left without him, so he’d have a perfect excuse to go home.

Of course he wasn’t that lucky.

“There he is!” said Tendou, much too loudly. “Let’s get going, before Yamagata drains the entire bar. It wouldn’t be the first time.”

Yamagata had just hopped off the stage. “Hey! Don’t make up lies about me. I’ve never done that.”

Kawanishi walked past. “Not for lack of trying.”

Yamagata snapped at him, and Semi left the building before he was legally obligated to give a statement to the police if a fight broke out. 

Tendou ambled along beside him, gesturing down the street toward the izakaya. “Right this way. It’s a great place. You won’t regret it.”

Semi already regretted it, but he didn’t say that.

“Sooooo,” said Tendou, dragging the word into too many syllables. “I saw you watching me on stage.” He tilted a grin at Semi. “Any comments?”

“I wasn’t watching you.”

“Sure you weren’t. No need to be embarrassed. I’m mesmerizing.”

Semi snorted. “You’re full of shit.”

They walked a little further, maybe a block and a half.

“Your floorwork was better,” said Semi, grudgingly. “That style suits you.”

He expected a smug reply, but Tendou kept his eyes forward, his smile barely there. “Thanks.”

Semi considered pushing him into oncoming traffic.

Oohira was already at the izakaya and had secured a table for them. Semi sat beside him, assuming Tendou would slide into the booth on the other side, but he happily plopped down right beside Semi. 

“Taichi and Hayato are arguing again,” said Tendou brightly. Semi didn’t know those names, but he assumed they must have belonged to Kawanishi and Yamagata. “I wonder if they’ll fight.”

Oohira shook his head. “Hayato would never hit him. He knows better.”

Tendou grinned. “It’s not Hayato I’m worried about.”

He didn’t seem particularly concerned about any of it; just amused, if anything. Semi slouched back against the booth and slumped down, arms folded, wishing he could melt underneath the table and disappear.

“How’d you do tonight?” asked Oohira, unfailingly polite.

“Fine,” said Semi. 

“How many private dances did you get?” said Tendou, leaning his elbows onto the table.

It was none of his business, but still Semi said, “Nineteen.”

Tendou gave a low whistle. “You’re really knocking them out. I saw that rich guy from yesterday was back. How’s he tip?”

“As well as you’d expect.”

“You’re really good at this,” said Oohira. Semi expected that to sound envious, but it was nothing short of Oohira’s usual amiability. “Plumage is lucky to have you around. You’ll draw in more customers.”

Semi didn’t know what to say to that, so he said nothing.

Yamagata and Kawanishi appeared a few minutes later, sullen and impassive, respectively. Semi was surprised, but only because they weren’t alone.

Ushijima slid into the booth between the two of them, as if they needed to be separated. He seemed perfectly at ease and greeted the rest of them with a respectful nod.

Tendou had said the dancers came out after the shift. He hadn’t said anything about the boss.

Semi glared to his right, where Tendou waved down a server, oblivious. 

“Welcome back!” The server offered a smile. “What can I get you guys?”

Semi went last, and when he ordered a vodka martini, Tendou said, “Put all of his drinks on my tab.” He made a twitching motion, as if he’d been about to wrap an arm around Semi’s shoulders and had thought better of it. “I’m covering him for the night.”

The server drifted away to fill their order, and Tendou leaned close to say, “I knew you were a vodka kind of guy.”

“I prefer beer,” said Semi, “but I need something stronger so I don’t snap your neck.”

“Oooh, kinky.” Tendou grinned at him and then leaned across the table, snatching at the end of Yamagata’s conversation.

Semi sat back and listened to them, making no effort to include himself. He had nothing to say. 

Unfortunately, they weren’t content to leave him out.

“What about you?” said Yamagata from across the table, pointing with his beer bottle. “You ever danced in heels? I think it’s bullshit.”

“Only because you can’t do it,” said Kawanishi passively, sipping at his mixed drink.

“I could if I wanted to.” Yamagata leaned forward, to glare at him past Ushijima. “I just think it’s dumb. You’ll break your fucking ankle.”

“Only one of us has ever broken an ankle, and it wasn’t me,” said Kawanishi. His face didn’t change, not even the smallest twitch. “I suppose stumbling around drunk is more dangerous than dancing in heels.”

“I was  _ not- _ ”

“That is enough,” said Ushijima. He spoke calmly, but there was something about him that made everyone else go silent. “We will be asked to leave, if you continue to make a scene.”

Semi glanced around. It was so late that they were nearly the only ones present. Still, Yamagata slouched back to sulk, and Kawanishi twisted his glass in his hands, unruffled. Oohira struck up a generic conversation with Ushijima, likely to break the tension. 

Tendou inched closer and said in an undertone, “Really though, have you danced in heels?”

“I do sometimes,” said Semi, cradling his almost-empty drink. “I have heeled boots but I don’t wear them often.”

Tendou blinked big eyes at him.

Their food arrived shortly, and though Tendou had only promised Semi free drinks, he told the server to include the meal on his tab, too. Semi was trying to be suspicious of his motives, but it was getting more difficult. He was starting to think that maybe Tendou was just trying to be nice, although he couldn’t imagine why. Semi had been distinctly unpleasant to him since the day he’d started at Plumage. Tendou should have been avoiding him, the same way Semi had tried to avoid Tendou.

“So, Phoenix,” said Yamagata, when he was well into his meal and his mood had improved. “I heard you worked at The Underground in Yokohoma, before you moved here. What was that like?”

Semi shrugged. “Same as any other club. It sucked because people could smoke in there and I had to breathe it all the time. The customers tipped well, though. My boss was a dick.”

“At least you had something in common,” said Kawanishi, flicking a glance at him before returning to his food.

Semi should have been insulted, but he was too surprised that Kawanishi had actually spoken to him. 

“You would know,” snapped Yamagata immediately. “That’s your main personality trait.”

“Maybe,” conceded Kawanishi. “At least it isn’t  _ dumbass _ .”

“What did you just-”

Ushijima didn’t even speak this time. He gave Yamagata a pointed look and he stopped talking immediately.

Semi again wondered why Ushijima was even there. At his past jobs, the dancers had avoided the boss as much as possible, on general principle.

“They have some really good dancers out there, right?” asked Oohira. “At The Underground.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Why did you leave?”

Semi remembered the last meeting he’d had with his ex-boss. The man had told Semi about the extra fees the dancers were being charged, but had offered a very unique way for Semi to circumvent them. It had been a miracle that Semi hadn’t punched him.

A miracle, or the boss’s quick reflexes when he’d ducked.

“I needed a change of scenery,” said Semi, mouth twisting into a frown. “I was sick of it.”

“Well we have great scenery at Plumage,” said Tendou with a grin bordering on a leer. “Even better, now that you’re around.”

Semi gave him a withering look and didn’t respond. 

“I have heard questionable things about their management,” said Ushijima, his voice authoritative even when he wasn’t trying. “They have been investigated on several occasions.”

“Investigated for what?” asked Yamagata.

Ushijima looked at Semi as he answered. “For things that will never be an issue at Plumage.”

Tendou was looking at him, too. Semi felt it. 

There was a flicker of tension, until Oohira spoke up. “So, Phoenix. How’s your move to Tokyo been? Have you gotten settled in okay?”

He was clearly trying to shift the conversation, and Semi was appreciative. “It’s fine. I’ve lived here before, a couple years ago. Not much has changed.”

There were a few more questions, and Semi answered them as vaguely as possible. Another round of drinks was delivered, and Semi tapped his nails against his glass as he half-listened to the conversation. He was amazed how well everyone got along, aside from Yamagata and Kawanishi. They all seemed as if they were genuinely friends.

Semi didn’t quite understand that. He’d never made friends with any of his coworkers in the past. He’d gone to work, collected his money, and gone back home. There was no reason to do anything more. 

Of course, his past coworkers had always been ready to stab him in the back at a moment’s notice. He wanted to think these guys were the same, but couldn’t quite commit to the idea. They didn’t seem like bad people. 

Semi glanced to the side, at Oohira. He gave the impression that he’d never done anything wrong in his entire life. He was too friendly. 

Tendou, on the other hand…

“Why so glum, Phoenix?” Tendou leaned into him with a grin and Semi shoved him away. “I would’ve thought all these free drinks would pull you out of that bad mood.”

“I’m not in a bad mood.”

“So that’s just your personality, then,” said Kawanishi, impassive. “That’s unfortunate.”

“Hypocrite,” mumbled Yamagata, quietly.

“You may leave, if you are uncomfortable,” said Ushijima from across the table. He hadn’t drank any alcohol at all. “Your employment does not obligate you to stay.”

“Yes, it does,” said Tendou. “If you leave, you’re fired.”

Ushijima frowned at him. “Satori.”

“Calm down, Wakatoshi. I’m only joking. He knows that. Right, Phoenix?”

Semi glanced between them and said nothing. He was surprised that Tendou was allowed to call the boss by his given name. He wondered if they were actually friends or if Tendou had just worked at Plumage for so long that they’d fallen into a first-name basis. 

“I’m not uncomfortable,” said Semi, although it wasn’t entirely true. He tipped back his drink, the bitter taste pooling on his tongue. 

“Great!” said Tendou brightly. “You can come out with us next Friday, then. Same time, same place. What do ya say?”

Semi didn’t look at him. “I’ll think about it.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t let you forget.”

That was the last thing Semi was worried about. 

It was about half an hour later when everyone had their final drink and the checks had been paid. Semi had a full meal and four drinks, but Tendou didn’t complain. He left a stack of crumpled yen on the table and slid out of the booth, and Semi followed him out.

The air outside was cool. Semi pulled his hood lower and tucked his hands into his pockets. The guys didn’t stick around to chat. They said their goodbyes and dispersed in different directions. Tendou strolled off on his own, and reluctantly, Semi trailed after him.

“Hey. Tendou.”

Tendou turned, his wide eyes almost glowing beneath the bright streetlight overhead. “Yeah?”

Semi looked across the street as he replied. “Thanks for the drinks. And the food, too, I guess.”

Tendou grinned. Semi wasn’t watching him, but he still knew.

“No problem!” said Tendou. “I would offer to buy again next week, but not all of us get tipped as well as you do.” That could have been a bitter statement from someone else, but Tendou said it with wry humor. “Maybe just one drink, if you come out with us again. You are gonna come out with us again, right?”

“I might.”

“Sounds like a yes to me.” Tendou swung back around and waved at Semi over his shoulder as he ambled away. “See ya soon, have a good night!”

Semi watched him go, then turned to head toward his own apartment. 

He thought the outing hadn’t been as terrible as expected. 

But he still wasn't looking forward to next time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There won't be an update next week but I'll pick back up the week after until it's finished! Thanks for reading. 💜


	4. Chapter 4

Plumage was closed on Sundays. Semi slept late, as usual; he’d spent so many years working nights that he was essentially nocturnal. When he finally got up in the late afternoon, he went to the atm down the street, fed it a few handfuls of yen that he’d collected over the past couple of nights, and stuffed the receipt into his pocket. He bought groceries at the corner store and returned to stock his refrigerator. Much like his apartment, it was almost too small to be functional. He spent the rest of the day - and part of the night - sitting in the floor watching tv, stretching out his shoulders and his hamstrings and everything else that felt tight after a solid week of dancing. 

It was a lot. Dancing wasn’t easy, and Semi had a lot of chronic aches to prove it.

He went to bed and woke up in time to get ready for his shift at Plumage. 

Semi knew that some people did things outside of work; hobbies and activities that had nothing to do with their job.

He’d never bothered with that. He didn’t have time for it.

Semi expected the night to be quiet. It was a Monday, which meant fewer customers than on the weekends. It also meant that Tendou wasn’t working, so Semi should get a taste of peace.

He was finding out much too often that he was wrong about any of his assumptions about Tendou.

Semi was about an hour into his shift, grinding against the pole with smooth rolls of his hips. He flicked his eyes toward the men seated at the side of the stage, intending to choose the target who appeared the wealthiest. 

He got distracted when a menacing smile lit up, curved wickedly beneath the overhead lights. 

He didn’t immediately recognize Tendou, because it didn’t look like him. His hair was down, framing his temples and falling into his eyes. He was dressed casually, in jeans and a baggy t-shirt. Semi only knew it was him because of that damn grin.

There was no reason for him to be there. He didn’t work on weekdays. If Semi wasn’t on shift, he would’ve been as far away from that place as possible. 

And yet there Tendou was, lounging back in his chair, perfectly content as he grinned up at Semi.

Semi didn’t roll his eyes, as badly as he wanted to. He was a professional. He couldn’t appear anything less than desirable as long as he was on that stage. 

Semi gripped the pole and flipped himself upside-down with ease. He hooked a knee, readjusted his grip, and spread his legs, giving his audience a dangerously good view. He freed up a hand to touch the back of his ankle, then his calf, sliding his fingers up toward his barely-there shorts. He stared directly at Tendou as he did it, hoping to embarrass him into looking away.

Tendou just kept grinning. 

Semi braced a shoulder against the pole and flipped himself down, landing on his knees. It would’ve hurt, a few years ago. Now he’d lost most of the feeling in his knees from so much time crawling on them. He made his way to the edge of the stage, slow and fluid, making eye contact with each of the nearby men in turn. 

Except for Tendou. 

Semi swiveled onto his back and spread his legs, peering at the nearest man from between his knees. Semi trailed a hand up the inside of his thigh, fingers hooking into the leather strap that he’d buckled there when he’d arrived. He let it snap against his skin in invitation, and the man reached out to tuck some money into it. Semi scissored his legs and twisted, finding his knees again, rolling his hips as he tucked a thumb into his shorts and tugged them down, holding them there until the next customer had slipped more yen inside. Semi traveled down the line, collecting tips, until he got to the end where Tendou waited. Semi intended to ignore him again, but Tendou had a few folded bills held loosely between his fingers, waving them lazily in Semi’s direction.

Semi slid over to him and rose onto his knees again. He would’ve been happier getting up and walking away, but he’d never turned down easy money. He moved to the extreme edge of the stage and leaned back on his elbows, freeing one leg and letting it fall open to the side. He angled his head to watch Tendou, and while he wouldn’t have trusted any of the customers not to grope him in that position, he thought Tendou wouldn’t.

Tendou leaned close, neatly tucking his money into the strap around Semi’s thigh. He sat back with a smug grin, and Semi spun himself around and climbed to his feet.

That was his last rotation on the stage. He gathered up the stray bills that had been tossed at his feet and descended the stairs, grabbing his jacket on the way down. He slipped into it and caught sight of Tendou walking by, away from the stage. Tendou wiggled his fingers in a wave and tilted his head toward the bar in what seemed to be an invitation. Semi shook his head and stuffed his money into the inner pocket of his jacket.

He expected Tendou to stop, to come over and insist that Semi join him, but he just shrugged and kept walking.

Semi watched him through narrow eyes, then turned and surveyed the crowd. One of the men who’d been sitting at the stage had migrated back to a table, and Semi gravitated toward him. He estimated that it would take six minutes to talk the man into buying a private dance.

It took four, and he tipped better than Semi had expected.

Semi pushed through the curtain to return to the main floor and paused to survey the crowd. There wasn’t much to see. Monday was the slowest night here, just like it was at every other club he’d worked. Most of the customers were gathered at the stage-side seats, watching the dancers. Semi would have to wait until they chose a table before he could approach them. It was in bad taste to steal someone else’s tips away from them while they were performing. 

He glanced toward the bar where Ushijima was mixing drinks, filling in for the often-absent bartender. Tendou was sitting on one of the high stools, leaning back against the counter, a half-empty glass caged in his long fingers.

Semi sighed, hating himself even as he started in that direction. He yanked his hood over his head as he crossed the floor and heaved himself onto the stool beside Tendou, refusing to look directly at him. 

“Phoenix?” Tendou seemed surprised, but that was quickly eclipsed by a smug grin. “What an honor to be in the presence of greatness.”

“I wish you would stop saying shit like that,” snapped Semi. He leaned back against the bar and folded his arms, staring out at the club. “I’m just trying to get paid like the rest of you. There’s no difference.”

He expected some sort of sly comeback, but Tendou said nothing. Semi regretted the decision to walk over. He didn’t know what he’d been thinking. He focused on the dancers instead, for a good reason to ignore Tendou.

Kawanishi was at center stage. He was tall at all times, but even taller in six-inch heels. He looked like something out of a dream, with the colored lights painting hazy patterns on his bare skin. His balance was impeccable even in the shoes as he ducked into a pirouette and hooked a knee at the pole to dive into a slow spin. His legs were pale and smooth and stretched on for days. But his face was as dead as always, and the way he moved was a little stiff. If anyone was paying attention, they could see he didn’t want to be there, and that was the best way to lose customers. 

Semi had been asked a few hundred times if he enjoyed what he did. He always said yes. If the customers thought he was happy to be there, then they were happy to give him money.

“How long has he worked here?” said Semi.

“Taichi?” Tendou swished his drink, ice clinking against the glass. “Six months, maybe a little more. He dropped out of university to be a model, but it’s harder to get a break in that industry than he’d expected. He’s still trying, but he had to start working here to pay his rent. His parents cut him off when he quit school.”

Semi glanced sideways at him. He hadn’t expected that much information.

“But don’t tell him I told you,” added Tendou, as if reading his mind. “He doesn’t like people knowing his business. The two of you have a lot in common, actually.”

“No,” said Semi, “we don’t.”

He felt Tendou looking at him, but he didn’t look back.

“Would you like a drink?” The voice came from directly behind him, and Semi didn’t have to turn around to know it was Ushijima.

Semi remembered a little too late that this was his boss, and that Semi was currently slacking off. 

“I was just going back to work the floor,” he said, hopping off of the stool. “Sorry.”

Ushijima frowned at him. He glanced past Semi and said, “Business is slow tonight. Having a break will make no difference. Sit. I will bring you something.”

He went off without waiting for a response, and Semi stared after him, uneasy. Was this some sort of trick, to try and get him in trouble? Was Ushijima going to wait until Semi was comfortable and then fire him for not doing his job? 

“You’re thinking too hard,” said Tendou, grinning. “Wakatoshi never means anything except what he says. Sit down. You’re so high strung you’re gonna give yourself a heart attack.”

Semi huffed under his breath but climbed back onto the stool. He didn’t think he had a choice. He watched Ushijima, but was still aware of Tendou looking at him. “Why’re you even here?” said Semi. “Don’t you have better things to do?”

Tendou swiveled around to set aside his empty glass and prop his elbows on the bar. “Not really.”

Ushijima returned to slide a cocktail glass onto the counter. He picked up Tendou’s empty one and drifted away again. Semi eyed the drink before taking a cautious taste. 

It was a vodka martini, the same as he’d ordered at the izakaya on Saturday night. Ushijima had remembered, and Semi wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

“I had late practice,” said Tendou, as if there’d been no lapse in the conversation. “I was already out, so I figured I’d drop by and see what was going on. I’m usually not here on weekdays. I didn’t realize how much quieter it was.”

It was still loud with the deafening pulse of the music, but Semi knew what he meant. He glanced over at Tendou and asked, “Practice?”

“Yeah.” Tendou stretched his arms overhead, wincing from the strain. “New show starts next week. Gotta run the routine about six thousand times to make sure we get it right.”

Semi had no idea what he was talking about. He frowned, almost asked a follow-up question, but stopped himself. He didn’t want Tendou to think he was interested. He wasn’t. He didn’t care what any of the other dancers did during their off time. It wasn’t his business. Instead he took another sip of his drink and said, “Thanks for the tip, earlier.”

Tendou grinned. “Don’t thank me for something you earned. You’re the best dancer here and you know it. Just don’t tell the others I said that. I say the same thing to all of them but I really mean it right now.”

He didn’t have to worry about that. Semi didn’t plan to say anything to the other dancers; ever, if he could help it. He had no idea why he was sitting here talking to Tendou, who was the most annoying of them all.

“When’s your night off?” asked Tendou, his feet kicking idly beneath him.

“Sunday.”

“Obviously. That’s everyone’s night off. When’s your other one?”

“I don’t have another one.” Semi tipped his drink back, wincing at the bitterness that clung to the bottom of the glass. He pushed it aside and said, “I work whenever the club is open. There’s no point having a night off.”

Tendou squinted at him, as if trying to work out what he’d said. “Are you joking?”

Semi’s face made it very clear that he wasn’t.

“What about free time?” said Tendou. “When do you do what you wanna do?”

“Making money is what I want to do.”

“What about recovery time, then? Dancing is rough. Your body needs a break.”

“It gets one on Sundays.” Semi turned away from the bar, to watch the stage again. Yamagata was performing now. He didn’t have the same issues as Tendou or Kawanishi. He was fluid, comfortable, almost constantly grinning. He was clearly having a good time. 

“That’s not enough.”

“It is for me. I need to get back to work.” 

He was on his feet and made it two steps away before Tendou said, “Hey, Phoenix.”

Semi looked over his shoulder.

“You still gonna go out with us after closing on Friday?”

“I don’t remember agreeing to that.”

“You didn’t,” said Tendou. “That’s why I’m asking.”

“Why do you care so much?”

Tendou shrugged. “I told you before. You’re part of the family now, whether you like it or not.”

Semi didn’t like it, not at all. But the DJ’s voice bled through the speakers, announcing the next dancer, and Semi didn’t have time to argue. “Yeah, whatever,” he said, shoving his hood back as he started toward the stage. “I’ll go.”

He didn’t check Tendou’s reaction, but Semi still knew he was grinning.

That Friday night went much the same as the previous Saturday. Semi worked his shift, racked up as many private dances as possible, and tried his best to dodge Tendou. It was easier than expected. Tendou waved at him when he arrived, and made idle conversation when they crossed each other’s paths, but he didn’t go out of his way to annoy Semi, as he’d done in the past. Semi didn’t know what had changed, but he wasn’t complaining.

Tendou’s floorwork had again improved. Semi pretended not to notice, because he didn’t want Tendou to think he was paying attention.

When the club closed and Semi had gathered his things in the dressing room, he threw his bag over his shoulder and headed out front. Oohira was on stage, fully clothed but trying to puzzle out something that required a complicated hand position. Ushijima stood nearby, watching him with a furrowed brow and offering an occasional suggestion. Semi wondered if Ushijima was just trying to be helpful or if he had experience.

There was no way. Semi couldn’t picture Ushijima even touching a pole, much less dancing for a crowd.

Tendou was leaning against the wall by the door, watching them. He grinned and pushed himself upright as Semi approached. “Ready to go?”

“If I have to.”

Tendou led the way out of the club, and Semi reluctantly followed. 

“Have you ever been happy about anything?” asked Tendou, as they started down the street. “Just one single thing?”

“My dad went to prison when I was sixteen,” said Semi with a shrug. “Probably the happiest day of my life.”

Tendou skipped a step, almost tripped. When he steadied himself, he said, “You’re joking, right? That’s a joke?”

“Sure,” said Semi. He shoved his hands in his pockets. “It’s a joke.”

Tendou didn’t laugh. His face was serious, brows pulling together to form a little crease in the center of his forehead.

“Is Ushijima coming again?” asked Semi, just so Tendou would stop looking at him like that.

“Yeah, of course. Wakatoshi always hangs out with us.”

“Why?”

“Because we’re friends?”

“You’re friends with your boss?”

“Yeah. Wakatoshi is cool. You like him, right?”

Semi didn’t know how to answer that. He didn’t hate Ushijima, but he wouldn’t say that he liked him. He’d never liked any of his employers. He thought that was the rule. 

“Hayato should already have a table for us,” said Tendou, as they approached the izakaya. “He and Taichi are already here.”

“Should they be alone together like that?” asked Semi. “Doesn’t seem safe.”

“Nah, it’s fine,” said Tendou. “They’ve been getting along okay this week. It comes and goes.”

Semi had questions about that, but reminded himself that he didn’t care. It wasn’t his business, and he didn’t need to know anything about these people.

Yamagata and Kawanishi were at the same table as last time. They were sitting together with Yamagata’s phone propped up between them, watching something on the screen. Kawanishi sat with his chin in his hand, politely impassive. 

“Hey, guys! What’s happening?” Tendou launched himself into the opposite side of the booth. Semi considered sitting on the other side, beside Yamagata, but resignedly slid in beside Tendou. 

“He felt the need to show me a breakdancing video,” said Kawanishi flatly. “I can’t imagine why.”

Semi expected Yamagata to snap at him, and he was surprised when the only reaction was a good-natured eye roll.

“You think it’s cool,” said Yamagata. “Don’t lie.”

Kawanishi said nothing.

Semi was having a difficult time accepting that these were the same two people who’d been tearing at each other’s throats the week before.

“I wanna see!” said Tendou, lunging across the table to try and catch a glimpse. “You’ve still gotta teach me to breakdance, Hayato. I’d be great at it.”

Yamagata snorted. “I’d like to see you try. You’d suck, just like I’d suck trying to do your kind of thing.”

“That’s not true. You’d be graceful like a dove.” Tendou hesitated. “A dove with two broken wings, but still a dove.”

Kawanishi smirked, just barely, before he was impassive again.

Ushijima and Oohira arrived shortly after, and the night proceeded much the same as last time. The difference was that Semi was stuck sitting beside Ushijima, and he spent so much time trying not to accidentally jab him with an elbow that he missed a lot of the table’s conversation. He ended up closer to Tendou than he would have preferred, but that was better than being too far into Ushijima’s personal space.

“What about that last guy you had in the back room?” Yamagata nudged Kawanishi and grinned. “He looked like a creep. Was he?”

Kawanishi’s nose wrinkled, just a little. “Yes.”

“What happened?”

Kawanishi closed his eyes. He seemed pained by the memory. “He wanted to lick my shoes and asked me to step on his dick.”

Yamagata burst into laughter. Tendou did the same, and even Oohira smiled. 

“Did you do it?” said Yamagata, leaning a shoulder into Kawanishi’s. “Please tell me you did it.”

“Of course I didn’t,” said Kawanishi. “That would be against the rules.” He flicked a glance at Ushijima, but when he looked back to Yamagata, he raised one of his eyebrows, just slightly.

Yamagata’s grin threatened to split his face.

Tendou’s arm snaked around the back of the booth. Semi almost pushed him away, but realized he was just stretching out. “One of many reasons I don’t like private dances. I’ll leave those for the more socially gifted among us.” He flicked a glance at Semi as he said it.

“I bet you’ve had some weird dudes, Phoenix,” said Yamagata. “What’s the worst one?”

The memory was in Semi’s head before he could stop it. He’d walked out of the club that night with split knuckles and no job. That had been one of the seedier places he’d worked. He hadn’t been mad about leaving. 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” said Semi. He was very aware of Ushijima’s presence beside him. If he told that story, he’d probably get fired from this job too, as a precautionary measure.

Yamagata shrugged that off. “Reon, tell us about the doctor guy from last year!”

Oohira shook his head. “I’ve told that story too many times.”

“No, you haven’t told it nearly enough. C’mon, Phoenix hasn’t heard it!” 

Oohira sighed, but gave in.

Semi was listening until Tendou leaned close and murmured, “Do you have a medical condition we don’t know about? Will you actually die if you share a single piece of information about yourself?”

“Fuck off.” 

“You know none of us are out to get you, right?” Tendou swirled his straw in his drink, still speaking in an undertone as the rest of the table laughed. “No one is gonna hurt you here. You can let your guard down a little.”

Semi slouched back in his seat. He didn’t answer. 

Across the table, Kawanishi swiped a bite of food off of Yamagata’s plate. Semi expected an argument to ensue, but Yamagata just pushed his plate closer to Kawanishi and kept talking.

“Oh hey,” said Yamagata, cutting himself off mid-sentence. “Wakatoshi, is it cool if I take off Monday? I just remembered.”

Tendou sighed. “You were supposed to ask last week.”

“Yeah, I forgot. How about it, best boss ever?”

Ushijima was expressionless, as always. Semi would have been intimidated, but Yamagata was still grinning, unworried.

“For what reason?” asked Ushijima.

“I’ve heard it’s the opening night of an  _ outstanding  _ performance,” said Tendou, smug. “Five stars. The critics are raving. It’ll go down in history.”

Semi had no idea what he was talking about, but Ushijima must have.

“That is fine,” said Ushijima. “It will be a slow night.”

“Thanks, man!” said Yamagata.

“I’ll catch it Thursday, on my night off,” said Oohira.

Semi frowned at Tendou. “What’re we talking about?”

“Oh!” Yamagata slapped a hand against the table. “Phoenix has never been to one of your shows! Wakatoshi, you’ve gotta let him have off, too. We can go together.”

“I don’t know what you’re-”

“I suppose that is fine,” said Ushijima. “There should be enough coverage.”

“Wait,” said Semi. “I didn’t ask for a day off. I don’t  _ want  _ a day off. Why are you-”

“C’mon, man, it’ll be fun!” said Yamagata. “You seem like you don’t get out much. You probably need it.”

Semi was too lost by this conversation to be offended.

“He’s right,” said Tendou. “You need to live a little.”

“No, I don’t,” snapped Semi. “You don’t know anything about-”

“You’ll take the night off,” said Ushijima. “You work too hard.”

The tone of his voice left no room for argument, but Semi still tried. “But… I’ve only worked at Plumage for three weeks. I haven’t even-”

“If you’ve worked this hard for me, I imagine you’ve done the same at your prior jobs,” said Ushijima. “Take a night to rest.”

Semi gawked at him. He wanted to insist that he rested on Sunday nights, and that was all he needed. He wanted to say he needed the money, even if business was slower on Mondays. 

What he would never say is that he didn’t like having too much down time, because he couldn’t stop himself from thinking. And Semi didn’t like to think.

“You’ll have fun, I promise,” said Tendou. “Money-back guarantee. Except you won’t be paying for anything. Hayato will buy your ticket.”

“Hey!”

“You’re the one who invited him,” shrugged Tendou. “It’s only fair.”

“Hang on,” said Semi. “What kind of show is this, anyway?”

Tendou’s grin was unreadable. “You’ll see.” 


	5. Chapter 5

Against Semi’s wishes, he met up with Yamagata on Monday evening. He’d been given the address, and arrived at a large building printed with large letters proclaming it a performing arts theater.

Semi read the words over and over again, his head craned back, trying to figure out what he was doing here. He didn’t know what he’d been expecting, but it hadn’t been this.

Yamagata was dressed casually, in jeans and a baggy button-up. It made Semi uneasy, which was ridiculous. He shouldn’t be more comfortable around people when they were nearly nude rather than fully dressed.

“If I go home,” said Semi, “will you tell Tendou I stayed?”

“Nope.” Yamagata clapped him on the shoulder and steered him toward the door. “You’re here, man. Make the best of it.”

Semi sighed and went where he was led, dragging his feet to make sure Yamagata knew it was unwillingly. Yamagata purchased both of their tickets without a word of complaint and they found seats midway from the stage, which was draped with a massive curtain. The auditorium was large enough that Semi felt swallowed by the shadows oozing from the low light.

“What’s this supposed to be?” asked Semi. He slumped back in his seat, arms folded, and eyed the crowd. He tried to guess what kind of show this was based on the people there to watch it, but there were no clear indicators.

Yamagata raised a brow at him. “Did you seriously not even check before you came?”

“No. It didn’t matter if I had to come anyway.”

“You’re kind of a dick, you know that?” Yamagata said it as a passing observation rather than rudely, as anyone else would have.

Semi didn’t dignify him with a response.

The show started only a few minutes after they took their seats. Semi had intentionally timed his arrival so there wouldn’t be much of an opportunity for socializing prior to the event. He didn’t despise Yamagata, but Semi also didn’t want him to get the false impression that they were anything resembling friends.

The feeble arc of light went down, plunging them into complete darkness. Semi stared at nothing and waited for his eyes to adjust. The curtain opened slowly, barely visible, and there was only darkness behind it. Silence pressed in. Semi wondered if Yamagata would notice if he got up and carefully tiptoed out of the theater. 

Gradually, as if fading from nowhere, music started. It was gentle and harp-like, and Semi was confused. Was this supposed to be some kind of musical, or a concert? He couldn’t picture Tendou being involved in either.

Spotlights swiveled from overhead to light the stage, and it took Semi a moment to realize what he was seeing.

Long trails of ribbon-like fabric draped from the ceiling to sweep the floor, in a range of colors from warm to earthy. Belatedly, Semi realized there were people wrapped up in the silks, and as he took a scan of the performers, he pinned down Tendou. He was obvious only because of his hair, which blended with his red ribbon cocoon.

The music continued, soft and harmonic. Semi had settled in his seat, still confused, but comfortable. 

Then the music changed all at once, with a violent pulse of sound that was startling. 

Tendou fell.

Semi sat up straight, his heart leaping. He didn’t know what was happening, but there was obviously a malfunction. Tendou was going to hit the ground. A drop from that height would probably kill him.

Tendou tumbled, weightless. When he was several feet from the floor, the silks caught him. He swung forward, suspended, and arched into a long, elegant shape as someone else tumbled into a freefall on the other side of the stage, mirroring him. There was applause throughout the auditorium, including Yamagata, who said, “Pretty cool, huh?”

Semi didn’t answer. He only stared at the stage, and until the performance wrapped up two hours later, he didn’t look away.

When the lights went up after the performance, Semi blinked his way out of a daze. The audience stood, still clapping as the curtain swept shut.

“I think that one’s my favorite!” said Yamagata loudly, to be heard over the noise. He was on his feet, too. “What do you think? Did you like it?”

“It was… different,” said Semi. Yamagata made a face like he couldn’t hear him, and he probably couldn’t. Semi had spoken quietly.

“Come on.” Yamagata grabbed Semi’s wrist and yanked him upright. “Let’s go see Tendou. The performers always hang out in the back after the show.” 

Semi wasn’t given a choice. Yamagata pulled him through the crowd and Semi could only focus on keeping his feet so he didn’t trip down the stairs. When they emerged from the auditorium and the noise level dropped, Semi said, “Are you sure we can go back there?”

“Yeah, it’s fine. I do it all the time.”

“You come here a lot?”

“When they start a new show, yeah.” Yamagata led him through a door marked Staff Only, but there was no one around to stop them.

“So… are you actually friends with Tendou, then?” asked Semi.

Yamagata’s steps slowed as he looked back, eyebrows raised. “Uh. Yeah? Why?”

“No reason,” said Semi. He wished he hadn’t asked. “I just thought maybe you all went out together because you had to. Not because you actually wanted to.”

“No way, man. I like all the guys. Even Taichi, sometimes. Tendou is cool. I wasn’t sure about him at first, because… well, you’ve met him. But yeah, we’re friends. We hang out sometimes, not just on Friday nights.”

“Oh.” That was all Semi could think to say.

They rounded a corner, and a spike of distant chatter reached them. 

“Right over here, just gotta sneak through this other door… Okay, not sneaking exactly, just discreetly slipping through… Don’t look at me like that, I told you I’ve done this before… Yo, Tendou!” Yamagata finally let go of Semi’s wrist and waved both arms overhead to get Tendou’s attention. It wasn’t necessary. Tendou had whipped around at the sound of his name.

“Hey, guys!” Tendou waved back, turned his head to say something to the woman standing next to him, and sauntered over to meet them. “Phoenix, you’re actually here! I figured you’d find an excuse to get out of it.”

“It wasn’t for lack of trying,” said Semi, with less venom as usual.

“That show was great, man!” said Yamagata, slapping Tendou with a high five. “That first drop was amazing. Phoenix almost shit himself.”

Tendou laughed, and Semi glared at both of them.

They talked about the show, and Semi only heard part of it. He squinted at Tendou in the badly lit hallway, trying to reconcile this version of him with the one he knew from Plumage. 

There had been an elemental theme to the show, and Tendou had obviously been styled to represent fire. His hair made him a perfect match. His costume was stitched in shades of red and orange with a spatter of glittering sequins. He wore full makeup; smoky eyes and dark lips with a smear of red glitter high across his cheekbones. 

Tendou caught him looking. He smiled, not as sharply as usual, and said, “Hope it wasn’t too boring for you.”

“It was good,” said Semi, before he could think better of it. “I liked it.”

Tendou seemed surprised. “Oh. Thanks, Phoenix.”

Semi folded his arms and glanced away.

“We’ll let you get back to it,” said Yamagata, waving toward the other performers gathered in the hallway. “I’d invite you for a drink, but you go out with the rest of them, right?”

Tendou looked over his shoulder. “Yeah, we always celebrate opening night. Raincheck?”

“For sure, man. I’ll see you soon.”

“Yep! Bye, Phoenix. Good to see ya!”

Semi mumbled a goodbye and fell into step beside Yamagata. Just before they took the corner, he looked back and caught a glimpse of Tendou laughing with some of his fellow performers, the light catching the glitter on his cheeks and making his face glow. 

Semi frowned as he turned away.

When Semi watched Tendou dance on Friday night, he couldn’t stop thinking about the theater performance. 

Everything about Tendou’s dancing made sense now; the artistic slope of his movement, his perfect lines, the reason he was more comfortable on the pole than the floor. He wasn’t just a struggling dancer like the rest of them, doing whatever they could to get by. He was an aerialist, a professional, even if his type of dance wasn’t quite this.

Semi couldn’t figure out why Tendou wasted his time at Plumage if he had a successful career outside of it.

“Could I get a private dance?” asked the man across the table, drawing Semi’s attention away from the stage. “If you have the time.”

Semi had almost forgotten what he was doing. He put a smile back on his face and said, “Sure, I’ve got plenty of time for you. Come on back, we can go right now.”

As Semi led the stranger toward the back rooms, he couldn’t help glancing at the stage again, where Tendou had leaned back into a perfect inverted split. He’d done the same thing several nights ago, wrapped in silks instead of hanging off a pole.

Semi wished he hadn’t been dragged to that show.

When the night wound down, no one asked Semi if he was going to the izakaya with them. He thought maybe he’d been uninvited from their weekly nights out. Maybe he’d said something too rude, or maybe his overall bad attitude had finally gotten old. Either way, he didn’t care. It was fine. That was one less thing he had to bother with.

When he was dressed and ready to leave the club, Tendou was waiting.

“Ready to go?” said Tendou without preamble, yanking the door open and waiting for Semi to step through. “They’re doing half-price martinis tonight. Which is great for you, since you like the vodka ones.”

Apparently Semi hadn’t been uninvited after all. Maybe he’d gone enough times that it was now assumed he would show up.

“What, you’re not offering to buy my drinks again?” asked Semi, as he and Tendou started down the sidewalk.

“No way. I saw how many private dances you did. You could buy for everyone and still have more leftover than any of us made tonight.”

That was only a slight exaggeration. Semi had done pretty well.

That night at the izakaya wasn’t as uncomfortable as the previous ones. Maybe Semi was starting to feel more relaxed around the other dancers, or maybe it was just because he’d gotten to sit on the end with only Tendou beside him. He didn’t have to worry about getting in someone’s personal space. Tendou didn’t seem to have any.

They talked and laughed and drank – Yamagata more than anyone else – and Semi only thought about getting up and walking out a couple of times. If he had to socialize, he guessed it could have been with worse people. He didn’t hate them as much as he could have.

When they left, everyone exchanged goodbyes at the door before going their separate ways. Semi started to do the same, but Tendou said, “Hey, Phoenix. Hold up a minute.”

Semi did, his boots scuffing against the sidewalk. 

“Is it just me,” said Tendou, “or do you hate us a lot less than you used to?”

Semi scowled at him. “It’s just you.”

Tendou’s grin was unshakable. “Sure it is. Here.” He held out his cellphone “Give me your number.”

Semi didn’t move. “What?”

“Your number.” Tendou shook the phone at him. “For emergencies.” 

“What kind of emergencies?”

“I don’t know. What if I’m in desperate need of an angry dancer with a bad attitude and you’re the only one who can help me?”

Semi walked away.

“C’mon, I’m kidding! Kind of. Halfway, maybe.” Tendou caught up with him easily, long legs carrying him across the pavement. “But seriously, we should all have each other’s numbers, just in case. It’s not like I’m gonna harass you or anything.”

“Aren’t you?”

“Maybe just some gentle harassment. But think about it, you need my number, too.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Just consider,” said Tendou. His voice was serious, but that grin still hadn’t faded. “What if it’s almost time for your shift and suddenly the water pipes burst at your place. You’ve gotta shower before work. Who are you gonna call?”

“No one,” said Semi. “I would go to the gym down the street and-”

“Wrong! You’d call me and say, ‘Hey, favorite coworker, can I shower at your place?’ And I’d say ‘Of course you can, I’ll put out my best selection of soaps for your bathing pleasure.’”

“That would literally never happen.” 

“You don’t know that. Water pipes are unpredictable.” Tendou offered his phone again. “C’mon. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Semi came to a stop again. He tried to think of a reason to say no, but came up short. He supposed the worst that could happen was communicating with Tendou when he wasn’t getting paid. But he was doing that already, by going out with them to the izakaya every week. 

With a sigh he took the phone, frowned down at the screen, and finally started tapping in his number.

“Huh. I thought there was a good chance you’d smash my phone on the concrete and walk away,” said Tendou.

“Why’d you hand it to me, then?”

“I was hoping you’d prove me wrong.”

Semi wanted to throw it on the ground out of spite, but he didn’t. He pressed the last digit, started to type in his name at the top of the screen, and hesitated. 

He could just hand it back. Tendou would enter the name himself. It’s what Semi should have done. There was no reason for him to do any differently.

But when he returned the phone, there was a name paired with the number, and it wasn’t Phoenix.

Tendou blinked at it and slowly raised his eyes to Semi. “What’s this?”

“What do you think?”

Tendou checked it again and said quietly, “Semi Eita.”

“You tell anyone my name and I’ll kill you in your sleep,” said Semi. He kept his gaze averted. He didn’t want to see the way Tendou was looking at him.

“No worries. Despite all my flaws, I can keep a secret.”

“You’d better.” He turned and started walking again, eager to escape the conversation. He hadn’t meant to do that. It had been entirely accidental. 

“I’ll text you!” Tendou called after him. “So you’ll have my number too, in case of a shower emergency!”

Semi waved over his shoulder without looking back. He spent the entire walk home wondering how badly he’d messed up, and playing out all the scenarios in which Tendou could use his name as leverage to blackmail him. 

Semi cleaned himself up in the tiny square shower, crawled into bed, and found a new message on his phone as he plugged it in.

It was from an unfamiliar number, but there was no question about who it was.

_ We’re open 24/7 for all your emergencies, shower and otherwise. Call anytime. _

A few minutes after that message, another one followed.

_ Goodnight, Semi. See you tomorrow night _ .

Semi tossed his phone aside and yanked his blanket over his head.

He’d definitely made a mistake.

When Semi arrived at Plumage the following night, Ushijima was waiting for him, and Semi was immediately on edge.

“Phoenix.” Ushijima was behind the bar, but his voice carried easily. “May I speak with you?”

Semi froze where he’d just passed through the door, his bag over his shoulder. The club hadn’t opened yet. Some of the other dancers were scattered about socializing, but none of them looked in his direction as he crossed toward the bar.

Ushijima was emptying the dishwasher. Glasses clinked together as he lined them up behind the counter. 

“Yeah?” said Semi, when Ushijima didn’t immediately say anything.

“Have a seat.”

Semi did; not because he wanted to. 

“We need to discuss your continued employment,” said Ushijima. He spoke more quietly, so none of the dancers across the room could overhear. 

Semi’s stomach dropped. That sounded a lot like he was about to get fired. He tried to think of what he’d done wrong and came up short. “Okay.”

“How long do you intend to stay here?”

“Umm.” Semi wasn’t sure what answer Ushijima was looking for. “What do you mean?”

“I know you have worked at many clubs,” said Ushijima, “most of them for short periods of time. Is Plumage only a temporary stop for you?” He paused, and added, “There is no incorrect answer. I would just like to know. I will not ask you to leave based on your response.”

He must have read the anxiety right off of Semi’s face. Semi exhaled and tried to shake off his nerves. He shouldn’t have been worried at all. He could get a new job tomorrow, if he had to. There was never a shortage of clubs willing to hire him.

But most of those clubs weren’t like Plumage.

“I usually leave places pretty quick because of the shady stuff going on,” said Semi. He clasped his hands between his knees and tried to seem indifferent. “There are a lot of rough clubs out there. It’s not like I’m switching jobs all the time because I want to.”

Ushijima stayed quiet, waiting.

“I guess I plan to be here for a while,” said Semi. He hadn’t let himself think about it until then. “I don’t hate it here. The customers tip well. Only three people have asked me to suck them off in the back room since I got here.” That was significantly less requests than he got at most of the clubs he’d worked. Ushijima knew how to run a business, and his policies were law. “So I guess… yeah, I’d like to stay, if you’ll let me.”

Ushijima inclined his head. “That is good to hear. You may stay as long as you like. We are fortunate to have you.”

Semi’s sigh tasted of relief.

“Since you will be with us for a while,” said Ushijima, “I have assigned you a private dressing room. They are typically reserved for the dancers who have worked here for a longer amount of time, but considering how much revenue you have earned for Plumage, you deserve it. We all know you are not an amateur dancer, so there is no need for you to share the group dressing room with them. You may leave anything in your room that you wish, so you will not have to carry your things back and forth every night. No one will take anything. Your name has already been printed on the door.”

Semi absorbed that with a touch of disbelief. “Are you sure?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you.” That didn’t seem sufficient, but Semi couldn’t think of anything better. “You already put my name on the door? What if I’d told you I was leaving next week?”

Ushijima shrugged one shoulder. “I hoped you would not.”

Semi wiped his hands on his sweatpants – they were a little clammy with nerves – and slid to his feet. “Can I go?”

“Of course. Thank you for your time.”

Ushijima had nothing to thank him for. Semi was the one who should be thanking him, repeatedly and profusely. Semi hiked his bag higher on his shoulder and made his way toward the back, pushing through the curtain and cutting left toward the dressing rooms. He passed by the largest one, the one he’d been using since he’d started, and moved further down the hallway past the others. The first was labeled Griffin and Falcon. The next was Osprey, and Semi briefly wondered how Kawanishi had gotten a dressing room alone when he’d only started six months ago. He decided it was probably done in an attempt to keep him separated from Yamagata, on their argumentative days.

There was one door further on, and Semi continued. He should have realized before he saw the writing, but he didn’t think it through.

He came to a dead stop.

Chimera and Phoenix.

He took a moment to absorb that, then slowly reached out to open the door.

Tendou whirled around in his chair to face him, that unwavering grin on his face. “Well look who it is. Come on in, plenty of room for everyone.”

Semi wanted to slam the door shut again. “Did you do this?”

Tendou spun his chair in a full circle until he again faced Semi. “Surprisingly, no. It was all Wakatoshi’s idea. He was gonna pair you up with Taichi, but Taichi was… well,  _ Taichi  _ about it. So he asked if I minded sharing and I said of course not, me and Semi-Semi get along great.”

Semi tried to sort through that, but the only thing he caught was, “What did you just call me?”

Tendou stopped spinning. “Umm. Phoenix?”

Semi glared at him as he stepped inside and pulled the door shut. This dressing room was smaller than the shared one up the hall, but there was a lot of space considering there were only two of them. There was a matched pair of wardrobes against the wall, a few chairs scattered about, and a table equipped with a mirror that was probably for makeup application. The entire left wall was mirrored, and Semi ignored the blur of his reflection as he tossed his bag into a chair. Even if the room hadn’t been labeled, and Tendou hadn’t been sitting there, he would’ve known it was Tendou’s room. The handfuls of clothing littered about were obviously his. One of his red g-strings dangled from the back of the chair Semi had chosen. Semi flicked it away, his nose scrunching.

“Sorry, didn’t have time to tidy up for you,” said Tendou. He didn’t sound very sorry. “Make yourself at home. What’s mine is yours.”

“Well what’s mine is mine,” said Semi. “Don’t mess with my stuff.”

“No worries,” said Tendou brightly. “Leather isn’t my style. I don’t think your stuff would fit me anyway.”

Semi could have dissected that into an insult, but he didn’t bother. He shrugged off his jacket and tossed it onto the nearby table. His shirt followed shortly after. He dug through his bag, found his harness, and yanked it out. It was halfway on and he was struggling with the buckles when Tendou said, “Need help, Semi-Semi?”

“No, I’ve got it.”

“Doesn’t look like you’ve got it.”

“I’ve  _ got it _ .”

One of the straps was twisted all the way around the back. He angled an arm behind himself, tried to straighten it out, and suddenly Tendou’s voice was a lot closer. “Here, just let me get it.”

“I said-”

“I know what you said.”

Semi huffed and let his arms fall. “I’ve done it a thousand times.”

“Oh, so you’ve always dressed like this? I thought it was just a phase.” Tendou untangled the strap and slipped it through the buckle. “Too tight?”

“It’s fine.”

Tendou notched it into place, his fingertips brushing against the bare skin of Semi’s back. “You were almost dressed like a normal human when you came to see my show. I wouldn’t have paired those shoes with those jeans, but overall-”

Semi stepped away from him and dug through his bag again. He thought about what Ushijima had said, about leaving his stuff there instead of lugging it back to his apartment every night. Semi wasn’t sure if he could do it. It felt too permanent, and none of Semi had never intended for any of his jobs to last long-term. He needed to be ready to grab his things and go at a moment’s notice.

Tendou propped himself against the mirrored wall, arms folded. “Hey, Semi?”

Semi had so many regrets about giving Tendou his name. “What?”

“Have you ever asked anyone for help before? Like, is that a thing you’re capable of doing?”

“Have you ever shut your mouth for more than ten seconds at a time?”

Tendou didn’t answer. Semi unearthed his shorts and checked over his shoulder to find Tendou frowning at him. “Reon would probably swap rooms with you, if you asked him. We get along well, and Yamagata wouldn’t mind having you over there. He likes you.”

Semi tried to repress a flicker of guilt. “I’m fine right here.”

“Are you just saying that to spare my feelings?”

“Do I seem like the kind of person who would do that?” Semi shoved his sweatpants down and kicked them away. He was naked underneath and Tendou’s eyebrows rose, higher than should have been possible. 

As Semi battled his way into the tight-fitting shorts, Tendou said, “I don’t know. Maybe, maybe not. You’re hard to read.” He watched shamelessly as Semi finished dressing himself and sat on the edge of the chair to pull on his boots. 

“You gonna watch me get ready every night now?” asked Semi, pulling the laces tight.

Tendou shrugged. “Not like I have anything else to do. Does it bother you?”

“Why would it? It’s not like the entire gay population of Japan hasn’t seen me naked already.”

Tendou pondered that, his head slightly tilted. “The Underground was a full nude club, right?”

“Yeah.” At least half of the clubs he’d worked in the past had been like that. More, probably.

“What was that like?”

“Didn’t bother me. It doesn’t matter.”

“What about when you first started out? When you were seventeen.”

Semi had forgotten he’d even told Tendou that. He knotted the laces of his boot and stood. “Didn’t bother me then, either.”

Tendou smiled, just a little. “Here I was, thinking you were a good liar. Guess you’re not as hard to read as I thought.”

Semi grabbed his jacket and left without another word. 

  
  


The dressing room situation wasn’t as bad as he’d expected. 

He survived Saturday night with minimal interaction. Sunday he was off, and then he had the entire stretch of the week with the room all to himself. 

But just because Tendou wasn’t working didn’t mean he wasn’t around.

It was late Wednesday night when he appeared, blending into the crowd like a peacock feather in a stack of needles. He’d clearly had a performance before showing up at Plumage. His hair was styled but chaotic and his eyes were painted in smoke. The bartender had actually shown up, so Tendou wasn’t slouching at the bar to chat with Ushijima like usual. He’d chosen a table in the corner instead and was laughing with Yamagata, who’d taken a break to sit with him.

Semi noticed them from the stage, but only briefly. The audience was more important. It wasn’t a weekend crowd, but it was significantly better than Mondays. There was a scatter of money at his feet before he even crawled to the edge of the stage, coaxing tips from eager hands and lingering in front of the men who seemed wealthy and interested. 

When he descended the stairs a few minutes later, stuffing his earnings into his jacket, Yamagata passed by to take center stage. “Tendou’s here,” said Yamagata, smoothing his hair down. 

“Yeah, I saw him.”

Yamagata didn’t say anything else, and Semi wondered why he’d said anything at all. Why would Semi care if Tendou was there or not? Semi was there to work, not socialize.

Semi slipped into the crowd, found the man with the Masunaga glasses who had tipped him 5000 yen, and talked him into the back room in two minutes flat. When he emerged two songs later, Kawanishi was on stage with the same bored expression on his face as usual. He was still drawing in good tips, so Semi supposed he couldn’t criticize him.

Semi surveyed the crowd to choose his next target, but his eyes caught on Tendou instead, still in the corner. Semi turned away, took three steps in the opposite direction, and silently cursed himself as he turned around. He paced to the corner table and slouched into the seat across from Tendou, folding his arms and glaring at the stage instead of acknowledging him.

“Good to see you too, Semi-Semi.” Tendou’s amusement was clear in his voice. “I’m great, thanks for asking.”

“Why’re you calling me that?”

“I like the way your face gets when you’re annoyed,” said Tendou. “Your eyes go all squinty. It’s adorable.” 

“Shut the fuck up.”

Tendou laughed and leaned back in his chair at a dangerous angle, keeping an arm on the table for balance. “You’re really out there breaking hearts tonight. Giving these poor souls a taste of what they can’t have. It’s cruel, if you think about it.”

“They know what they’re paying for. They’re getting exactly what they want.”

“If you say so.”

“Why are you here?” said Semi, frowning across the table. “Don’t you get enough of this place on the weekends?”

“I like to see it from a different view.” Tendou raised his hands in front of his face, making a frame with his fingers. His chair slammed back down. “From a customer’s perspective, ya know?”

“Sounds dumb, but whatever.”

“You’re just mad because I didn’t tip you after that last dance.”

“I am not.”

“Sure, Semi-Semi.”

Semi ground his teeth together but said nothing. As badly as he wanted to snap at Tendou, he was also working. He couldn’t make a scene in front of the customers, even if none of them were paying any particular attention to him just then. 

“You should wear your heels sometime,” said Tendou. Semi didn’t immediately know what he meant, but then Kawanishi descended the stage stairs and walked across the floor, perfectly graceful despite the extra six inches of height. “You’re probably good in them. You’re good at everything else.”

That last comment should have been sarcastic, but Tendou said it like he meant it.

“And Hayato would be furious,” added Tendou, a grin cracking across his face. “He really can’t dance in them. He’s tried. Falls every time.”

Semi shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t know.”

He expected Tendou to push, but he didn’t. He just settled back in his chair and watched Oohira take his turn at center stage. Oohira was strong; stronger than Semi had ever been, despite years of dancing. He climbed the pole hand over hand, effortlessly. Semi wondered what kind of training Oohira did outside of Plumage. He must have had a serious weightlifting regiment, if his muscle tone was any indication.

Semi glanced sideways at Tendou, who was also watching the stage. His smile was softer than usual, almost fond. Semi remembered that Tendou and Oohira had worked together for a while. They must have started around the same time.

When Tendou wasn’t harassing someone, he looked different. There were less sharp angles and cutting edges. His eyes were always heavy-lidded, and with the dark makeup, they seemed even heavier. His mouth was slightly curved, even when he wasn’t smiling. His cheekbones were high, and the red glitter painting them sparkled in the low light. His hair was always chaos, but it suited him. All of his features, a little too big and a little too much, somehow suited him.

Tendou turned his head and caught Semi staring. He blinked, smiled, and said, “It’s your turn, Semi-Semi.”

“What?”

“It’s your turn.” Tendou gestured toward the stage. “Phoenix to center stage. What’re you waiting for?”

“Fuck.” Semi was out of his seat and halfway across the club before he registered the low murmur of Tendou’s laughter trailing after him. Semi had never missed his call to stage. It was like second nature to him now. He listened for his name on instinct and his body moved even before his mind realized he’d heard it. 

He blamed Tendou for distracting him, and didn’t let himself think any more about it. 


	6. Chapter 6

Weekends were always busy, but that Friday night was hell.

Every table and single stage-side seat were full, and even more people were clustered around the bar waiting for drinks. Typically customers came alone or in pairs, but that night there were several groups with tables pushed together and voices carrying over the loud music. It was disconcerting, because an audience in this atmosphere was usually quiet. If Semi hadn’t worked at some rowdy clubs in the past, it would’ve thrown him off. It was definitely affecting some of the others. Kawanishi was steeped in dread every time he climbed the stairs to take his turn on stage, and although Oohira was smiling, it seemed a little strained.

Fortunately for Semi, this kind of crowd meant a lot of money at the end of the night, and he was thriving. 

He wasn’t alone.

“Can you believe this crowd!” Yamagata threw back a shot and grinned through the burn. “I’ve never seen this many people here. Tendou?”

Tendou tapped a finger against his chin, thinking. “It gets pretty packed on New Year’s, most of the time. I think you missed that this year, because of your ankle. It’s a lot like this.”

“It’s not a holiday, though,” said Yamagata. He gestured at the bartender, who promptly ignored him. “What a dick. What’s his name? I’m gonna bitch at him until he gets me something.”

“It’s Tachibana, isn’t it? No wait, Terauchi. No…”

“I thought it was Usui-something?”

Before they reached an agreement Ushijima appeared and pressed a shot into Yamagata’s hand. “That is the last one I will serve you for now. There will not be another incident.”

“C’mon, Wakatoshi! I keep telling you, I wasn’t even drunk! I just tripped because-”

“Save it,” said Tendou, as Ushijima returned to the bar. “We all know you were wasted.”

Semi stood with the pair of them, leaning against the wall and watching a flash of money scatter at Kawanishi’s feet as he pirouetted and dropped onto the floor to crawl toward the crowd. If he was raking in that much cash despite the closed-off look on his face, Semi would make a killing.

“It’s spring break,” he said, cutting through Tendou and Yamagata’s conversation. “Half of the crowd is university kids, spending their parents’ money and pretending to be high rollers. The other half is from the business conference downtown. They’ve been cooped up in meetings all week and now they’re itching out of their skin.”

Tendou and Yamagata looked at him, and then at the crowd. There was a definite dichotomy of customers, ranging from twenty-somethings with expensive sunglasses perched on top of their heads despite the late hour, to middle-aged men with Rolexes whose clothes were supposed to be casual but were still too stiff. 

“Oh,” said Tendou. “How’d you know that?”

“I pay attention.”

The song ended and the dancers shifted. Oohira descended the stairs after gathering his money and nodded at the trio as he passed by. Semi was moving before his name was even announced. He’d memorized the rotation.

“Knock ‘em dead, Semi-Semi,” called Tendou. 

Semi sliced a glare over his shoulder as he stripped off his jacket and mounted the stage. 

Right before he started dancing, he thought that he should’ve taken Tendou’s advice and worn his heels. This would have been a great crowd for it. But even without them, Semi intended to drain these wallets dry.

Semi always danced hard and dirty, but tonight he made it filthy. He felt himself up as he moved, spread his legs as often as he could, and grinded against the pole in the most suggestive way. When he melted off of the pole he fucked the stage floor, making unashamed eye contact with each of the customers in turn.

Kawanishi had gotten a lot of tips. Semi was  _ showered  _ in them. 

There were hands too, pushing money at him, creeping much closer than was allowed. It felt like he was at The Underground again, and he suddenly realized how complacent he’d become at Plumage. It was a strange feeling, one that he put aside to reflect on later. He didn’t have time just then. Right now the only thing that mattered was money. 

He accepted the tips and ignored the brushes of eager fingers. It was easier if he pretended not to notice them at all. It took a few extra seconds to gather up the yen scattered across the stage. By the time he’d collected it into a semi-neat pile, Tendou was already there, ready for his turn. He grinned down at Semi with purple sequins on his g-string and his high-tops and the flowy tank top he was about to rip off. 

“You’ll give someone a heart attack, dancing like that,” said Tendou, as Semi rose to rotate to side stage. 

“I hope they tip me first,” said Semi.

Tendou laughed, low and sharp, as Semi moved away. 

There was still a thick crowd, even at side stage. The seats were full and a few eager customers stood close rather than settling for the more distant tables. Semi didn’t mind it. He preferred it, actually. If the crowd was like this every night, he’d be rich.

Usually he started a song slow but this time he dove right in, getting the customers invested from the first second. He thought about how many of these men he could coax into private dances and went just a little bit harder, cupping himself as he rolled his hips and grinning a little too sharply. 

He crouched, spread his knees, and rose again, swinging around so his ass was toward the audience. He dragged a hand up the back of his thigh and teased at the hem of his shorts. When he stood it was with a flick of his head, glancing over his shoulder at the audience before turning back and coming to a dead stop. 

Tendou was there, one hand high on the pole, leaning into his space.

Semi was confused. The song hadn’t ended. Tendou should still be on his own pole.

“Hey, Semi-Semi.” Tendou’s voice was a low murmur, meant only for Semi. “I have an idea. Wanna make some extra tips?”

Semi almost said no on general principle but something about the glimmer of Tendou’s eyes, bright in the stage lights, made him pause. He told himself it was the mention of extra tips. “What kind of idea?”

Tendou eased closer. He reached out, and when Semi didn’t pull away, he rested a hand at Semi’s waist. It was different than the customers trying to touch him. Tendou planted his palm and left it there. He didn’t feel around, didn’t try to catch a handful of ass. 

Semi was hyperaware of the audience, everyone watching, probably wondering what they were doing. Semi wondered the same thing until Tendou ducked his head and eyed Semi for a reaction.

Semi understood all at once, and he knew he should put a stop to it, knew it was a bad idea, but he also knew Tendou was right. 

If he was showered in tips before, now he was about to drown in them.

Semi reached up, cupped a hand around the back of Tendou’s neck, and yanked him down.

Semi had never imagined kissing Tendou, but he would do a lot of things for money.

It was a little sloppy, mostly because Semi made it that way. He kissed the same way he’d danced; dirty and sexy and without holding back. His tongue was in Tendou’s mouth, his hips against Tendou’s hips, a hand fisted in the back of Tendou’s hair. Tendou kept up with him easily, falling into Semi’s lead, his grip pinching a little tighter at Semi’s waist.

The customers lost their minds.

There were catcalls and shouts and whistles, but mostly there was money, handfuls of it. Semi knew even with his eyes closed. It fluttered at his ankles and only made him lean deeper into the kiss.

When they separated with a wet pull of lips, Semi looked up at Tendou, whose eyes were lidded even heavier than usual. He blinked down at Semi, a little dazed, before a smile slowly grew on his face. Tendou licked his lips and returned to his part of the stage, where customers were waiting with very generous tips.

Semi forced himself to focus on his own audience and dropped to his knees to finish the song on the floor. When it ended he swept up the money that had been thrown at them, but there was no way to make a neat pile out of it. It was a clumsy armful that he carried to the last section of the stage, where he had one final dance before his rotation was over. He looked at the small area of stage and then at the money, wondering where he was supposed to put it. Usually he tucked it away in his jacket after each round but usually there was a lot less of it.

“Here, I’ve got you.” Yamagata appeared, weaseling his way through the crowd to the edge of the stage. He reached up and Semi almost refused.

But he didn’t think Yamagata would steal from him.

He passed the money over with a mumbled thank you and started his dance. The crowd was pressed in even tighter now, and even though Tendou kept to his part of the stage, the tips rolled in like high tide. Semi collected them at the end of the song and spared pointed grins for the customers who’d given the most. When he left the stage he was floating, a little kick of adrenaline in his blood that he hadn’t felt in a long time.

It was extinguished immediately when he realized Ushijima was waiting for him, and he was not pleased. 

“My office,” said Ushijima. His tone was dipped in steel. “Now.”

Semi’s mouth went dry. He shuffled away to do as Ushijima said, then realized he had no idea where the office was. He glanced back but Ushijima was still in the same spot with his arms crossed, watching the stage. Semi's gut sank as he realized Ushijima was waiting for Tendou.

Someone touched his shoulder and Semi flinched away, expecting an overeager customer, but whirled to find Oohira instead. He would have relaxed if anxiety hadn’t already swallowed him whole. 

“Come on,” said Oohira. He started toward the bar and Semi took another look back at Ushijima before following.

Oohira sidestepped the counter, ignored a sharp snap from the bartender, and opened the door beside the cooler. Semi had never noticed it. The room beyond was obviously Ushijima’s office, and as the door shut behind them, much of the deafening noise from the club was muted.

Semi stood there with his jacket thrown over his shoulder, a messy stack of money from his final dance, and a crippling certainty that he was about to get fired.

Oohira must have sensed his turmoil. He touched Semi’s shoulder again and this time it was comforting rather than startling. 

“Don’t worry about it,” said Oohira. “You’re new. You didn’t know.”

He didn’t specify what Semi didn’t know, but he didn’t have to. Semi was perfectly aware of what he’d done wrong.

He’d just fucked everything up.

“I’ve never seen him mad before,” said Semi. He shrugged his jacket on and zipped it halfway up, struggling to stuff the money into the pocket. The air was cooler in here. He pulled his hood on and tugged it low over his forehead. “Will he at least let me keep the night’s tips after he fires me?”

“He won’t fire you, Semi.”

Semi glanced at him. The sound of his name would’ve startled him at any other time. Now he was weighed down with so much dread that he couldn’t feel anything else. 

“Sorry,” said Oohira, sheepish. “I meant Phoenix.”

“Tendou told you my name.” It wasn’t a question.

“We’ve all known it since your first week,” Oohira admitted. “Tendou did some digging. I’m not sure how he found it. I made him promise not to use it until you told him yourself.” 

“He’s an asshole,” said Semi. It should have been an insult but it was too inflectionless. 

“It’s almost my turn on stage,” said Oohira. “Sit down. Try to relax. He won’t fire you.”

That was easy for Oohira to say. He’d probably never done anything wrong in his life. He didn’t have to worry about getting fired.

Semi didn’t know why he was so worried himself. He’d been fired several times before and had quit even more times than that. He didn’t need this job in particular. He could find a new club tomorrow.

He could, but he didn’t want to.

Oohira left him alone and Semi followed his advice. He sank into one of the chairs facing Ushijima’s desk and focused on the little details of the room instead of what might happen. Everything was perfectly clean and organized. There was a closed laptop, a large calculator, and a stack of receipts speared on a sharp metal rod. That was all he had time to notice before the door opened behind him and the blaring sounds of the club filtered inside. It only lasted for a moment before it was quiet again.

Tendou dropped into the chair beside him, bare legs squeaking against the leather. He gave Semi a fleeting look, face devoid of its usual grin, before turning his attention to Ushijima, who stood behind his desk rather than sitting.

Ushijima studied the pair of them with large arms folded across his chest. He was just as intimidating as the roughest bouncers Semi had worked with; more intimidating, probably. It was something about his face, the hard angles and piercing eyes. 

“Phoenix,” he said, and Semi’s stomach lurched like he’d missed a step. 

“Yes?”

“At Plumage,” said Ushijima, “there is no touching between dancers during performances. It gives the crowd the false assumption that they can do the same. It also negatively affects a club’s reputation in some ways, and I will not have it on my stage.”

Semi remembered this time last week, when Ushijima had offered him a private dressing room in the hopes that he would stick around.

That felt like years ago.

“Okay,” said Semi. “I’m sorry, Ushijima-san.”

“It’s not his fault,” said Tendou. “He’s new, he didn’t know. I’m the one who started it, anyway.”

Semi should have let Tendou take the blame for himself. That was fair. Semi wouldn’t have done anything wrong at all if Tendou hadn’t approached him. Still he found himself saying, “I still shouldn’t have done it. I was never told, but I knew. It’s obvious.”

“Shut up, Semi.” Tendou wasn’t looking at him, still focused on Ushijima. 

“You shut up.”

“Neither of you should have done it,” said Ushijima, his face unchanging. “Phoenix. Typically I would send you home for the rest of the night.” Semi’s heart stopped beating until Ushijima continued. “However, the crowd is much larger than usual, and I need you here. If you make the same mistake again, you will be dismissed permanently.”

Semi felt a little sick. He mentally repeated to himself  _ you’re not fired, you’re not fired _ . “Okay. It won’t happen again. Thank you, Ushijima-san.”

Semi stood and Tendou fidgeted in his chair.

“Stay, Tendou.” Now Ushijima did sit, eyeing Tendou from across his desk. “We are not finished.”

Semi hesitated, but Ushijima brandished a hand in clear dismissal. Semi turned away and reentered the club, slipping from behind the bar and back into the crowd. He’d felt the thrum of the music in his blood during that last dance. Now everything was distant, as if a thick film existed between himself and his surroundings.

He’d gotten by with just a warning, but he had a feeling Tendou wouldn’t be so lucky.

“Hey, uh, Phoenix?” A short man with braces on his bottom teeth approached. “I wanted to see if I could get a private dance from you? I watched you earlier. You’re really good.”

Semi mentally shook himself. He needed to get it together. Ushijima had let him keep his job, but if he didn’t do it right, that wasn’t a guarantee.

Semi made himself smile. It was forced, but the customer didn’t seem to notice. “Yeah, I’d love to. You been here before? The private rooms are in the back, I’ll show you.”

Just before he pushed through the curtain he looked back toward the bar.

Ushijima and Tendou still hadn’t emerged, and Semi tried not to think about them as he went to work.

At the end of the night, Semi realized that Ushijima had been right. Kissing someone on stage, whether Tendou or anyone else, was a bad idea.

He lost count of how many men asked him for a kiss, or a blowjob, or a quick fuck on the private room couch. Semi wanted to blame this particular crowd, the arrogant college kids and the entitled businessmen. But he knew that wasn’t it, at least not all of it. 

Most of the customers weren’t dumb enough to keep pushing once Semi told them no. Some of them were, and the bouncers kicked out four people at Semi’s request; one of whom was fortunate that his nose wasn’t broken from when Semi had not-so-accidentally hit him with an elbow when a stray hand had grabbed Semi’s dick. 

When the club closed and the last customer had wandered out, Semi slumped into the nearest chair and took a breath. He was exhausted. He knew that he looked like a mess, and the pit of anxiety that had opened in his chest when he’d been ordered into Ushijima’s office had never quite faded away.

He’d made a lot of money, though; as much as he usually made in two weeks.

He went back to the dressing room to fetch his bag. He’d made several trips back there over the course of the night to stow away his tip money, because it didn’t feel safe to carry that much around with him on the floor. He dressed quickly and headed out front where Ushijima was wandering around, straightening the chairs and tables that had been knocked askew by the crowd. Semi plopped his bag onto the edge of the stage and rifled through his money, mentally adding up all the private dances he’d done and counting out Ushijima’s percentage. He shuffled it into a neater stack and approached Ushijima, hovering a few steps away, waiting to be noticed.

Without turning around, Ushijima said, “Yes?”

“My cut for the night,” said Semi. 

Ushijima finished rearranging a circle of chairs before turning to accept the offered money. “Thank you.”

“Ushijima-san, I apologize again for earlier,” said Semi. 

“There is no need,” said Ushijima. “As long as it does not happen again, there will be no issues going forward. Thank you for your hard work tonight.”

Semi nodded, almost asked about Tendou, and stopped himself. Instead he said, “Goodnight, Ushijima-san” before retreating. 

He didn’t know what had happened to Tendou. He’d disappeared while Semi had been in a private room and his name had been pulled out of the stage rotation. Semi knew he shouldn’t be worried. It had been Tendou’s fault anyway, and Semi shouldn’t care if he’d been fired for doing something stupid.

But he was worried anyway, because he knew it was partly his own fault, too.

Semi went to get his bag and found Yamagata sitting next to it on the edge of the stage, swinging his feet. He’d pulled on some baggy sweatpants but was still shirtless. 

“Yo, Semi. You killed it tonight, man. If I was into dudes, I would’ve been all over you.”

Kawanishi strutted by in his heels and gave Yamagata a withering look of extreme skepticism.

“Thanks,” said Semi. 

“Here.” Yamagata shoved a bundle of money at him. 

Semi didn’t take it. “What’s that for?”

“I kept it for you after the, uh… the thing.” 

The thing. The thing where Semi kissed Tendou on stage in front of the entire club.

“Right,” said Semi. He’d forgotten that Yamagata had taken that stack of tips for him. He yanked open the zipper of his bag and let Yamagata stuff the money in, alongside the rest of the cash Semi had collected.

“Damn, man.” Yamagata peered into the bag as Semi zipped it back up “You made a killing. You’re really good at this.”

“Experience,” said Semi.

“You coming out with us tonight?”

“I’ll pass,” said Semi. “I’m too tired.”

“Next week then?”

“Yeah, sure. Next week.”

That was good enough for Yamagata and he told Semi goodbye before heading toward the back of the club. Semi broke off in the opposite direction and the bite of the cool air outside was a relief. He started down the street toward his apartment but stopped on the corner, staring blankly at the empty sidewalk.

He should just go home. This wasn’t his problem, not even a little.

These people weren’t really his friends. It shouldn’t matter to him what happened to them. If someone got fired, that was just one less person he had to compete with for tips.

He shouldn’t care.

Semi closed his eyes as he pulled his phone out, as if he could deny what he was about to do. He had to open them again to dial the number, and he pressed the phone against his ear to wait.

There were a few long rings before Tendou picked up.

“Heya, Semi-Semi. What’s up?”

He sounded the same as usual. Just as upbeat, just as annoying. 

“What happened?” asked Semi.

There was a pause. When Tendou spoke again, there was something different about his voice. It was the same volume, but muted somehow. “Nothing much. Me and Wakatoshi had a talk. I went home. No big deal.”

“Are you going to the izakaya tonight?”

“Nah, I figured I’d skip it. I don’t wanna make things weird and I’m already home anyway.”

That was proof enough that Tendou wasn’t okay, not completely. He never missed a Friday night out.

“Get ready and meet me, then,” said Semi. “You have ten minutes.”

It was closer to twenty by the time Tendou arrived, dressed in old jeans and a hoodie, his hair down and curling around his ears. He wandered over to Semi’s table at the mostly-empty bar where Semi was waiting with a tall glass of beer.

It was quiet there. Much quieter than it had been at Plumage.

“Hey,” said Tendou. There was something wrong with his face and it took Semi a minute to figure out why. Tendou wasn’t smiling.

Semi pushed a cocktail across the table. “Drink this. You look like you need it.”

Tendou picked up the glass by the stem and sniffed it. The corner of his mouth curled, just slightly. “My favorite drink. How thoughtful.”

Semi should have told him to shut up. He didn’t.

A few minutes passed by in silence. A couple wandered in and sat at the bar. Someone swaggered over to the vacant pool table, and the crack of resin was louder than the music playing from the small staticky speaker behind the counter. 

“What happened?” said Semi. He’d asked the same thing over the phone, but this time he got a different answer.

Tendou sighed and slouched back in his chair. That seemed to be his natural posture. Semi didn’t think he’d ever seen Tendou sit with a straight spine. “Wakatoshi wasn’t happy. The opposite, really. He doesn’t get mad like a normal person, but it’s almost worse. If he would’ve just yelled at me for a minute it would’ve been easier.”

“He didn’t?” asked Semi. “Yell at you, I mean.”

Tendou snorted. “He’s probably never raised his voice in his whole life. He doesn’t need to. People always listen to him. That’s why he was so upset, I guess. He doesn’t usually have to deal with anyone breaking his rules.” Tendou rested an elbow on the table and held his chin in his palm. “It’s harder for him because we’ve been friends so long. That’s what made it awkward.”

“Did he fire you?”

Tendou blinked. “What? No, of course not. He just sent me home for the night. He had to do something, or the guys would think he doesn’t enforce his rules. It was easier to punish me because I was the one who started it, and because the club wouldn’t lose as much money without me as it would without you.”

“Only because you don’t do private dances,” said Semi. “Which is stupid.”

Tendou shrugged. “Not my favorite thing.”

“Everything is okay, though?” asked Semi. “You still have the job?”

“Yeah. I’ll be back tomorrow, whether you want me there or not. Can’t get rid of me that easy.” Tendou smiled and it was almost believable.

Some of Semi’s lingering anxiety drained away. If Tendou had gotten fired over this, he would’ve felt guilty. Sure, Semi wasn’t the instigator, but he was still part of it. He’d known better.

“Sorry about this whole thing, Semi-Semi,” said Tendou. His face was serious again. “My bad.”

“Shut the fuck up,” said Semi, without heat. “It’s not your fault that I was too dumb to tell you no. I know Plumage isn’t that kind of club.”

“Well it’s not your fault that I asked in the first place,” said Tendou. He paused and added, “Well, maybe it is. With the way you were dancing, I just couldn’t contain myself.”

Semi rolled his eyes. “Shut up.”

Tendou grinned. “I’m kidding, Semi-Semi. Sort of. You were on fire tonight, though. It’s a miracle the club didn’t burn down.”

“I was just working the crowd. It’s part of the job.”

Tendou hummed and tapped his fingers against his glass. He seemed more like himself. Semi shouldn’t have been relieved by that.

“Do you always kiss like that?” asked Tendou, his grin pulling wider. “It was a little more aggressive than I imagined from you, Semi-Semi.”

“Like I said, I was working the crowd.” Semi took a drink of beer and watched Tendou over the rim of his glass. Tendou’s brow was still raised, so Semi clarified, “Of course I don’t always kiss like that.”

Tendou’s smile grew a little smug. “Good to know. Not that I didn’t enjoy it, of course.”

“Can we stop talking about the thing that almost got us fired?”

“Sure, if you’re embarrassed.”

“I’m not embarrassed.”

Tendou hid his grin in his cocktail. 

Semi finished his beer, then unzipped his bag and dug through the contents. He emerged with a wad of yen that he pushed across the table toward Tendou.

“Sorry, Semi-Semi. I know my body is irresistible, but it’s not for sale.”

“Shut up and take the money. It’s your half of the tips from our… dance.” He wasn’t going to say  _ kiss _ . He planned to live the rest of his life without acknowledging that it had even happened. “Yamagata held onto it for a while, so if it’s less than you expected, blame him.”

“Do you really think he’d steal any of your money?”

“…No.”

Tendou grinned and pushed the yen back across the table. “Keep it. You earned it.”

“I made plenty tonight. That part is yours.”

“You’re the one who’s always worried about making money,” said Tendou. “I’m not. I don’t do it for the money.”

Semi squinted at him. “Why do you do it, then?”

“I don’t know.” Tendou shrugged and tilted his head to stare off across the bar. “I did need the money, when I first started. When I got a permanent spot at the theater I could’ve quit Plumage. I thought about it, but I kinda like being there. I like the other dancers and I like performing, even if it’s a different kind of performing than at the theater. I’m not trying to tell a story or be someone else. I’m just me, and people like me anyway. It’s just nice to be wanted sometimes, you know?”

Semi had expected Tendou to brush him off with a half-answer. He definitely hadn’t thought Tendou would tell him the truth, especially not a truth so genuine. 

Tendou blinked and refocused on Semi. “I’m kidding. I just like running around half-naked. It’s not socially acceptable anywhere else so I’m stuck there.”

It was hard to tell when Tendou was lying, but Semi knew he was right now. He could have called him out on it but he didn’t. “Whatever. It’s still your money. Take it.”

Tendou gave in with a sigh. “Has anyone ever told you how stubborn you are?”

“No.”

“They should have.” Tendou shoved most of the money in his pocket but left a few bills on the table to cover his drink. “Because you are.”

“I already paid for that.”

Tendou grinned and tucked the rest of the money away, too. “It must’ve been a pretty good kiss if you invited me out and bought me a drink.”

“If you say one more thing about the kiss I’m never speaking to you again.”

Tendou didn’t seem to believe him, but he stopped talking about it anyway. He didn’t mention it a single time, not during the hour that they sat there at the bar talking about nothing, not when they walked together for a couple of blocks toward their respective apartments, and not when they broke away with mutual goodbyes. 

Tendou also didn’t mention it in the text he sent half an hour later, after Semi had showered and gotten into bed. 

_ Goodnight, Semi-Semi. See you tomorrow! Thanks for the drinks.  _

Semi didn’t text him back, but he did wonder when he’d stopped thinking of Tendou as someone he despised.


	7. Chapter 7

Semi worried that there would be lingering awkwardness after the kissing incident, but things were back to normal as soon as he arrived for his shift the following night. Ushijima treated him the same as usual, Tendou had reverted to his original annoying self, and no one else brought it up.

Except for Kawanishi, who delivered a particularly well-worded insult that was so clever that Semi couldn’t even be mad.

The crowd that night was of a normal caliber, and though Semi mourned the money he could have made if it had been a repeat of the evening before, he was also relieved to take things a little slower. He still did well in tips, and when he left at the end of the night, he was satisfied.

On Sunday he was off, and he ran errands and stayed home, as usual.

The next week went smoothly at first. Monday was fine. Tuesday was fine.

Wednesday was not fine.

It started off okay. It was a decent crowd and they were generous. Semi was doing great, until about three hours into his shift, when he suddenly wasn’t.

He was in one of the private rooms, in the middle of a song. He had one foot on the ground and one on the couch, planted beside the customer’s thigh. He was rolling his hips, tracing the shape of his leather shorts, and thinking about which of the men sitting by the stage out front would be his next target.

The first throb of pain sliced through his skull like a meat cleaver and he slapped a hand against the back of the couch to steady himself.

The customer grabbed Semi’s arm to steady him but quickly let go again. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” said Semi. The pain faded into a dull ache, so distant that it was almost nothing. He shook his head slowly and pushed himself upright again. “Sorry. Got a little dizzy for a second. Been dancing a lot tonight.”

That wasn’t true, not at all, but the customer accepted it without question and sat back to enjoy the rest of his dance. When it was over and Semi sent the man on his way, he sank onto the couch for a minute to collect himself.

It was ten o’clock. The club would close at two. He only had four hours left of his shift and he could go home. Four hours was nothing. 

There was still a dull buzz of pain but it was mostly buried, only there because Semi was thinking about it.

Four hours. He could get through four hours.

  
  
  
  


He lasted for an hour and a half.

He pushed through his dance on-stage, gathered up his tips like nothing was wrong, and calmly walked down the stairs. As soon as his feet hit level ground he grabbed his jacket and rushed toward the back of the club, slamming into the bathroom door in his haste, and barely made it to the toilet. His chest constricted and he threw up, hard enough that his ribs ached, his brain beating a merciless rhythm against his skull. He felt blindly for the toilet paper, wiped his mouth, and almost fell when he tried to stand up. He splashed cold water on his face and refused to look at himself in the mirror over the sink. He didn’t want to see how bad he looked. 

There was a tap at the bathroom door.

“Just a minute,” said Semi. His voice was raspy from a raw throat. He slapped a handful of cold water against the back of his neck and stumbled across the small bathroom. He expected one of the other dancers to be waiting their turn.

He didn’t expect Tendou.

“Hey, Semi-Semi.” He was in his theater makeup, with a beanie pulled over his hair and his jacket so big it swallowed him. Semi hadn’t seen him come into the club, but he hadn’t seen much of anything during the last half hour. He’d been too focused on not puking on the stage. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” said Semi. “I’m fine.”

He waited for Tendou to move out of his way. He didn’t.

“You don’t look like it.” Tendou reached out to touch Semi’s forehead. “You’re pale. Like, really pale.”

“I said I’m fine. Move.”

Tendou took a single step back. Semi started to walk past him but stopped. He spun back around so fast that he nearly fell and made it to the toilet in time to dry heave over it, his chest aching. He squeezed his eyes shut and wiped at them with the back of his hand. He knew it would smear his eyeliner but he didn’t have the energy to care. 

“Semi?” 

“I just need a minute.”

“Are you sick? What am I saying, obviously you’re sick. Do you need to see a doctor? It’s late, but there’s a hospital a few blocks away. I can call a cab. Do you want-”

“No, Tendou. I don’t need a doctor. I don’t need anything.”

“No offense, but that’s not very convincing.”

Semi took a few deep breaths, confirmed he wasn’t going to gag again, and stood upright. He rinsed off his hands, mostly because the cold water was a relief. He pressed his palms against his temples to cage the thunderstorm roar of his head. It didn’t help.

“It’s just a migraine. I get them sometimes. It’s fine.”

“A migraine,” repeated Tendou slowly. “You have a migraine and you were still on stage.”

“I only have a couple hours left. I can make it.”

“Here I was all this time, thinking you were smart,” said Tendou. He touched Semi’s elbow. Semi hadn’t known he was that close. “You need to go home.”

“I can’t. I have to work.”

“Not like this, you don’t. You look terrible anyway, no one is gonna tip you.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“Sure I am. Come on, Semi.” Tendou pulled at his arm, gently. Semi wanted to slap him away and go back to the stage.

But his head felt like it was splitting open, caving in, splintering apart.

Semi went where he was led, his eyes mostly closed against the lights. He thought the only reason he’d made it so long was because Plumage kept the lights low. The music was starting to get to him, though. During that last dance his skull had throbbed in time with the bass.

It was mostly quiet when Tendou told him to sit down and Semi realized they were in their dressing room. Tendou unzipped Semi’s bag and picked through it, and Semi didn’t even snap at him to stop.

“Here.” Tendou pushed something into Semi’s hands. He vaguely recognized it as his clothes. “Get dressed. I’ll go tell Wakatoshi you’re leaving.”

“I can’t. He’s already mad at me for last week.”

“No, he’s not.”

“I haven’t given him the cut for my private dances. I can’t just-”

“Stop being stubborn and put your clothes on. I’ll take care of it.” Tendou didn’t wait for him to argue. He left the room and Semi was left staring down at his sweatpants, wincing as pain kicked in his temple.

He would have resisted at any other time on general principle. But his head was in agony, his stomach was beginning to roil again, and all he wanted to do was lie down somewhere dark and quiet until the thunder in his head died away.

He wrangled his sweatpants on over his boots, which wasn’t an easy task, and zipped his jacket all the way up to his throat. He pulled his hood over his eyes, curled up in the small chair, and tried to focus on anything other than the pain. 

It was impossible.

“C’mon, Semi-Semi.” Tendou’s voice returned, and Semi wasn’t sure how long he’d been gone. He felt as if he’d been waiting there forever. 

Semi unfurled and stood. He reached for his bag but Tendou grabbed it first, draping the strap over a lean shoulder. Tendou’s hand was on his back, guiding him toward the door. If Semi hadn’t been so miserable, he would’ve slapped him away. 

“Watch it, there’s a wall there.” Tendou tugged at the back of Semi’s jacket, redirecting him. “You going blind?”

“No.” Semi squinted at the floor as he walked, his eyes barely open. “The lights hurt.”

Tendou didn’t respond, but his hand slipped around Semi’s elbow instead, keeping him a little closer to steer him through the back hallways of Plumage. Semi expected to emerge behind the stage, to have to pull himself together to get through the crowd. But a door creaked open and cool air hit his face, a comforting contrast to the heat in his skull. He cracked his eyes open a little further and realized they were in the back alley behind the club. There were a couple of lights mounted on the brick wall of the building but it was still darker than it had been inside.

Tendou didn’t let go of him. “Where do you live?”

“It’s just a few blocks. It’s fine.”

Tendou sighed. “I’m asking so I can walk you there. Which way?”

“You don’t-”

“I know I don’t have to,” said Tendou, cutting him short. “I’m gonna do it anyway. If I let you wander off by yourself you’ll get hit by a car and then what will I do? Annoy someone else? I don’t think so. Which way?”

Semi didn’t have the energy to argue. He mumbled vague directions, and after fifteen minutes of walking in which his eyes were closed more often than not, Tendou came to a careful stop.

“This one?”

Semi cracked an eye open. His head throbbed. “Yeah. Third floor, toward the back. Number 305.”

Tendou hesitated. Semi hardly noticed.

“Okay,” said Tendou. “Come on, then. Be careful on the stairs, you’re stumbling around like a toddler.”

After a brief struggle they reached the right door. Semi slouched against the wall and waited as Tendou dug through his bag, searching for the key. 

“You have too much stuff in here, Semi-Semi… Is that a…? Nevermind, I don’t want to know.”

Semi groaned and sank into a crouch, cradling his head in his hands. He considered lying down in the hallway floor. It would be easier than making it the rest of the way to his bed.

“Don’t die on me now, we’re almost there.” There was rustling and finally a metallic rattle as Tendou unearthed the key. “Here we go. Why won’t it open?”

“Yank the handle to the left,” mumbled Semi. “Hard.”

Tendou did, and there was a shriek of hinges as the door gave. “Oh.”

A moment passed. Semi’s head was down so he didn’t know what Tendou was doing until a hand hooked at his bicep and coaxed him to his feet. Semi rose and staggered over the threshold into his apartment. The lights were off and he hoped they stayed that way. He pulled away from Tendou and made his way through the room like a zombie, finding the bedroom doorway by memory alone and slamming his knee into the corner of the bed before collapsing onto it. He curled into a ball and fumbled for a pillow to pull over his head.

Everything was dark and quiet. Semi’s brain was still hammering away inside his skull and the nausea hadn’t quite gone away, but at least he was home.

But not alone.

“You didn’t take your boots off, Semi-Semi.” Tendou’s voice was floating somewhere nearby. 

Semi didn’t emerge, didn’t respond. He didn’t care about his boots. He didn’t care about anything.

There was a sigh and a tug at his ankle. Semi didn’t resist as Tendou unlaced one boot and then the other, pulling them off and walking away again. Semi only knew that because of the squeak of the floorboards. 

“Do you need anything?” asked Tendou a minute later. “Water or something?”

Semi almost said no, but a rational thought dragged itself out of the thorny mess of his head. “Yeah. Sleeping pills in the kitchen cabinet.”

There was another squeak of floorboard and a few minutes of silence. Semi wondered, just as he did every time this happened, if he would be better off dead.

Tendou returned and long, cool fingers touched the back of Semi’s hand, clutched over the pillow. “Here. Sit up and take these.”

Semi didn’t want to sit up. He didn’t want to move again for the rest of his life. 

There was a nudge at his shoulder. “Semi. Come on.”

Semi gave in. He emerged from the shelter of the pillow, preemptively wincing, but the room was dark. The kitchen light was on but the door had been pulled mostly closed, leaving only a glowing sliver. Tendou was sitting on the edge of his bed, his wide eyes reflecting the dim light. Semi held out a hand and Tendou dropped a pair of pills into his palm. A glass of water was offered next and Semi’s head ached as he swallowed. 

“You’re still wearing your dancing stuff,” said Tendou. “Take it off real quick so you’ll be comfortable.”

“No. I don’t care.”

“Well I do. Here, just stay there, I’ll get it.”

“I just want to sleep.”

“I know, Semi-Semi. Just a minute.”

Semi sat with his eyes closed, distantly aware of Tendou fingers brushing against his chest as he battled with the buckles of the harness. It felt like longer than a minute.

Tendou eased Semi’s jacket off of his shoulders and the harness slipped off after it. “There. All good. Do you need anything else?”

Semi didn’t answer. He tilted over, carefully laid his head on the pillow, and curled up again. He knew from experience that it would take a veritable eternity for the sleeping pills to kick in. He would have to suffer in silence until then. 

“Okay,” said Tendou. The bed shifted as he stood. A blanket was thrown over Semi, but he didn’t move. “Yell if you do, alright?”

Semi made a low sound and apparently that was good enough for Tendou. There was a final creak of floorboards, a painful flash of light as the door opened, and then darkness.

Semi laid there and waited for sleep or death.

Sleep was the one that took him.

  
  
  
  


When Semi woke, it was with the groggy ache of a full-body hangover.

He didn’t move for a while. He drifted in the darkness of the room and of his head, his thoughts echoing like stones dropped in a stairwell. He felt vulnerable, like if he got up, if he even tried, something would hurt.

He pressed a cautious hand against his temple. There was a lingering ache there, but it was bearable. He could live with it. He sat up slowly and his head spun with a sudden rush of dizziness that was gone as soon as it started. He peeled his eyes open but there was nothing to see. The room was dark. He didn’t know what time it was. It could have been noon and he wouldn’t have known the difference. The blackout curtains on the window extinguished the sun.

Semi crawled out of bed gradually, avoiding any sudden movements. He went into the bathroom, relieved himself without turning on the light, and dipped his hands into the cold water of the sink. It was bracing, and he made wet palmprints on his neck, the water dripping down to his bare shoulders. He pushed his hair back and approached the bedroom door, hesitating for a minute too long before cracking it open.

The light hit him like a kick to the side of the head. He winced away from it, took a moment to reorient himself, and opened his eyes again. There was a low throb in his temple but it was quiet, just an afterthought compared to the pain of the night before. 

He pressed in with the heel of his hand to try and subdue it, but forgot all about the lingering ache when he realized Tendou was on his couch, blinking up at him as if he was somehow surprised to find Semi there, in his own apartment.

“What’re you doing here?” said Semi. His voice was dry, cracked. He made his way toward the kitchen sink, which was only a few steps away from the couch and everything else in the small room. 

“I brought you home last night,” said Tendou. He spoke quietly. 

“Obviously. I mean why are you still here?”

Tendou shrugged as Semi took a few gulps of water. “You were in pretty rough shape. I thought you might need something, so I stayed.”

“I’m fine.”

“Maybe now, but you weren’t then. You scared me, Semi-Semi. I thought you might wake up dead.”

Semi didn’t bother pointing out how nonsensical that was. He poured more water into his glass and took the few steps to the couch. “Move.”

Tendou sat up out of his sprawl, legs retracting to give Semi room. He plopped down on the end and the cushion sagged beneath him. His head gave a half-hearted twinge. 

“How do you feel?” asked Tendou. He kept his voice low, which was appreciated. Semi didn’t think he could endure Tendou’s usual volume just then.

“Better. I slept through the worst of it.”

“Does that happen to you a lot?” asked Tendou. He pulled his knees up to his chest and looped long arms around them. “The migraines?”

Semi shrugged. “Not as much as it used to. Once a month, maybe.” 

“That sucks.”

“Yeah.”

“Should you eat?” asked Tendou. “I can go get you something.”

“I’ll wait a couple hours, to make sure the nausea is gone.”

Tendou kept staring at him. It should have been unsettling, but it wasn’t. Semi thought maybe he’d gotten used to Tendou by now.

It should have been weird having him there. As a rule, Semi didn’t let anyone into his apartment. Since he’d moved in, he’d been the only person inside. It should’ve felt invasive. He wanted it to feel that way, but it didn’t.

Maybe Tendou tracked his train of thought, or maybe he just happened to be thinking about something similar. “I’m surprised you live here, Semi-Semi. I pictured a high-rise penthouse somewhere, as much tips as you make every night.”

Semi huffed a breath through his nose. “Yeah, right.”

Tendou smiled a little, but it was subdued. “Seriously, though. This is kind of a shady neighborhood. And this place is kinda…” He made a vague gesture. “Why are you…?”

It was surprising that Tendou was trying to be polite about it. Semi would have expected him to ask outright.

“You mean why do I live in a shitty apartment in the slums?” said Semi flatly.

Tendou winced a little. “That’s not what I meant.”

“What did you mean, then?”

“It just… doesn’t seem like you.”

“Clearly you don’t know me very well.”

Tendou frowned. It seemed like he wanted to argue but instead he settled back, sinking further into the threadbare cushion beneath him. “I guess not.”

Semi should’ve left it at that. It wasn’t any of Tendou’s business where he lived or why. Still, he found himself saying, “It’s the cheapest place I could find. I know it’s not great, but it doesn’t bother me. At least there aren’t roaches.”

Tendou glanced at the floor, as if confirming. His eyes snapped back to Semi and they were just as intense as ever. Semi wondered if Tendou had slept or if he’d been sitting there awake all night. “Not to be rude, Semi-Semi, but most nights you make more money than all the rest of us combined. Do you have some shifty gambling debt you’re paying off? Or twenty secret love children scattered across the country you send money to? What’s your deal?”

“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Not as dumb as someone like you living somewhere like this.”

“This is exactly where someone like me belongs,” said Semi. Tendou looked as if he was preparing to argue, so Semi added, “Yeah, I could afford a better place. But it would cost more, and I save all the money I can. I’ll need it someday, when… you know.”

Tendou blinked at him. His face suggested he didn’t know.

Semi sighed. He didn’t know why he was even having this conversation. It would’ve been easier to tell Tendou to get out. He took another sip of water and leaned over to place the glass on the floor. “I’m twenty. Yeah, that’s young, and yeah, I’ve probably got a lot more good years ahead of me, but someday it’ll be over. I’ll peak, and I’ll start making less money at the clubs, and less people will want me. Shit, it could happen any time, even now. I’ve seen lots of dancers fuck up their back or their knees and get knocked out of work. Sometimes for a few months, or a year, or even longer. I need a financial cushion, so I won’t starve on the fucking street when I can’t dance anymore.”

Tendou stared at him. That was nothing new. Tendou looked at him often. But this was different, a new sort of intensity that Semi wasn’t sure how to react to. Tendou seemed to weigh his words, and when he spoke, it was slowly. “So you think if you can’t dance anymore, you’re not worth anything.”

“That’s not what I said.” The words snapped, just a little. Semi’s head gave a weak throb. “Stop twisting my words.”

“What’re you saying, then?”

“I’m saying I want to be prepared. That’s it.”

Tendou considered that. “Hypothetically speaking, if you had to stop dancing, couldn’t you just get a different job?”

“Yeah, sure,” scoffed Semi. “I’ll just walk into a fancy business somewhere and get hired on the spot. That’s how shit works out.”

“I’m being serious.”

“So am I.”

“You can do other stuff,” said Tendou. His head was tilted a little, face strangely serious without his usual grin. “Lots of other stuff.”

Semi slumped back. “No, I can’t.”

“Wh-”

“Dancing is the only thing I’ve ever done. It’s all I know how to do. I’ve never had a different job, I didn’t finish school, and I can’t do shit. Even if it was an easy fucking job, no one’s going to hire a guy whose only experience is stripping. It’s this or nothing.”

“Semi-”

“Not that I would expect you to understand something like that,” said Semi, spite dripping into his voice like poison. “The club is a fucking hobby for you. You don’t need it. You have your frilly day job. You’re a professional. When you retire from this gig, you can make money teaching spoiled college kids how to spin on a fucking silk and drain their rich parents dry.”

Tendou didn’t respond. He just stared, eyes wide, looking the same way he would have looked if Semi had slapped him across the face.

Semi glared back, waiting for Tendou to argue, daring him to say something back.

But the room remained silent and gradually Semi’s affront faded into something much less comfortable. 

He rubbed a hand over his face and cursed to himself. He wished Tendou would say something, or at least get up and leave. Anything.

“Fuck.” Semi pushed his hair back and stared off across the room. “I didn’t mean that.”

“I know.” 

Semi hadn’t expected that. He glanced sideways at Tendou.

“It’s true, though,” said Tendou passively. “I have options. I’ve never worried about what’ll happen if I lose my job. You know why?”

“Because you’re not street trash.” Semi mumbled it so quietly that he wasn’t sure if Tendou would even hear.

“If I lost everything I have tomorrow,” said Tendou, “and I was out on the street with nothing, I would be fine. I could go to Wakatoshi’s place, and he’d help me out. Or to Hayato’s, or Reon’s, or hell, maybe even Taichi’s. There’s at least a dozen people from the theater who’d look out for me, too. They’d all help me, because they know I’d do the same thing for them. That’s the real problem, Semi-Semi. Yeah, you’ve been through some rough shit, but it wouldn’t be nearly as bad if you’d just trust someone to have your back for once in your life.”

Now it was Semi who felt like he’d been slapped. He stared at Tendou, mouth slightly open, his head giving a distant pang than he hardly noticed. 

“I like you, Semi.” Tendou’s voice went a little softer. “All the guys at Plumage do, too. Even Taichi. Whether you want to believe it or not, any of us would be there for you if you needed something. Anything. That’s what friends do. And we’re your friends, even if you don’t want us to be.”

Semi wanted to call him a liar, but it was impossible, considering Tendou had brought him home and spent the entire night on his couch. 

“Live however you want,” said Tendou, as he stretched out his legs and stood. “It’s your life. But you don’t have to do it like this, all by yourself. I’m gonna go. Do you need anything else?”

Semi shook his head, slowly.

“Alright. If you change your mind, you’ve got my number.” It took him only five steps to cross the room to the door. He slipped into his shoes, pulled his beanie over his flat hair, and sank into his oversized jacket. “I’ll see you Friday night, Semi-Semi.”

He was gone before Semi had a chance to respond. He wasn’t sure if he would’ve said anything anyway. 

The door closed behind him and Semi was alone. That was nothing new. He’d been alone in that apartment every day since he’d moved back to Tokyo. Before that he’d been alone in one that was almost identical, in a different city with different streets. 

It was nothing new, but for the first time in a long time, he didn’t like it.

  
  
  
  


Semi didn’t hear from Tendou for the rest of the day. That wasn’t strange. Tendou sent him texts occasionally, but not every day. He probably thought he was getting on Semi’s nerves most of the time, which would be a reasonable assumption considering the way Semi treated him. 

Semi didn’t hear from him on Friday either, leading up to their shift at Plumage. Semi arrived at the same time as usual, spared a hello for Yamagata as he passed by, and headed back to the dressing rooms.

Tendou was already there. Semi had expected that.

“Hey, Semi-Semi.” Tendou was as cheerful as ever. He leaned back in his chair and propped a foot up on a table to lace up his high-tops. They were the black ones tonight. “How’s it going?”

“Fine.” Semi moved further into the room and dropped his bag into a chair. He realized vaguely that the dressing room was larger than the living room-kitchen combo of his apartment and wondered if Tendou had thought about that, too. “You?”

Tendou tilted a glance at him. “I’m good.”

Semi unzipped his bag, but didn’t reach into it. He stared blankly, hands hanging uselessly at his sides. He turned to face Tendou, who was watching him with high eyebrows. 

“Everything okay, Semi-Semi?”

“Yeah. No.” Semi put his hands in his pockets and took them out again. He ran a hand through his hair, pushing his hood off. “The other night, I wasn’t trying to… I didn’t mean to come at you like that.” He tried to say something else. Stopped. Tried again. “I’m… sorry.”

Tendou was uncharacteristically solemn. He smiled, but not in his usual teasing way. “Don’t worry about it. We’re good. You were recovering from a life-threatening migraine. I can’t hold you responsible for anything that was said.”

“That wasn’t it,” said Semi. “I’m just an asshole.”

Tendou’s grin pulled a little higher. “Yeah, that too. It’s okay. Thanks, Semi.”

Semi expelled a breath and turned away again. His face felt a little warm. He wasn’t used to apologizing. It made him feel awkward. 

He dug through his bag and started getting ready for the night’s shift. Tendou spun circles in his chair, humming to himself. Semi was halfway into his harness, struggling with the buckles, when the spinning stopped. He didn’t look back but he knew Tendou was watching him.

Semi almost couldn’t bring himself to do it. He closed his eyes, took a breath, and said, “Tendou?”

“Yeah?”

Semi bit his tongue and forced out the words. “Help me out here.”

There was a smile in Tendou’s voice. “Sure thing, Semi-Semi.”


	8. Chapter 8

Semi had lived his life refusing to get comfortable and accepting that only bad things would happen if he ever did. He’d skipped from city to city and club to club, never staying in one place long enough to call it his home.

Despite knowing this, and despite trying not to, he was beginning to think of Plumage as his home. It was dangerous. He needed to stop.

“And I swear the guy offered me ten thousand yen to flash my dick at him,” said Yamagata, illustrating the story with flapping hands. “Ten thousand. To see a dick. Seriously.”

Kawanishi raised an eyebrow. “Yours in particular isn’t worth nearly that much.”

“Dude, what the hell?”

“Did you do it?” said Semi, before the two of them devolved into arguing.

Yamagata shrugged and glanced around to make sure they weren’t overheard. The three of them stood in a corner of the club, conversation muffled by the thump of the music as the three dancers on stage spun and crawled and grinded. “Ten thousand, man. Who can say no to that?”

“Anyone with a measure of self-respect,” said Kawanishi.

“You literally stepped on a dude’s balls until he cried during a private dance last week,” said Yamagata, scowling. “Don’t lecture me about self-respect.”

Semi thought Kawanishi would argue, because there was no way that was true.

But Kawanishi only shrugged and said, “It’s what he asked for, and he paid double what you just got. Raise your standards.”

Through the speakers, the DJ’s voice announced, “Next up on center stage, please welcome the gorgeous and stunning Osprey!”

Kawanishi swept away from them without a word, approaching the stage and climbing the stairs with absolute grace, despite the lethal height of his heels. As soon as the next song started he was moving, a fluid series of spins and pirouettes, shoes flashing, face as blank as ever.

“He annoys the fuck out of me,” said Yamagata, staring at him. “He always has something clever to say and makes me feel fucking dumb. I think it’s the heels. How’re you supposed to argue with someone when they’re that much taller than you?”

Semi chose to keep his mouth shut. He didn’t think it was the heels.

“There you are!” said Tendou, bounding over to them as he drifted away from his turn on the stage. He was in his red g-string and nothing else. “Figured you were off in a private room somewhere, Semi-Semi. That’s basically where you live. Might as well just start sleeping there.”

“At least you’d never be around,” said Semi, “since you’re too good for private dances.” He said it with a slight quirk of his mouth, to soften the insult.

“Excuse you,” said Tendou, still grinning. “I’m not too good for anything. I just leave that to the professionals, like yourself.”

“And myself,” Yamagata interjected. “I’m a professional.”

Tendou seesawed a hand. “Eh.”

“Dude, you too?” said Yamagata, his eyes going narrow. “Have you and Taichi been conspiring against me or something?” 

Tendou propped an elbow on Yamagata’s shoulder. He was the perfect height for it. “C’mon, Hayato. I would never. I’m just joking with you, you’re definitely a professional.”

Yamagata wasn’t appeased. “Now it just sounds sarcastic.”

“You’re imagining it,” said Tendou. “Anyway, who’s the next victim, Semi-Semi? Lots of exciting prospects out there.” He swiveled to face the crowd. “We’ve got the ones who’re too good to go to the stage and tip, the ones who won’t leave the stage at all, and the loners who’re too awkward to leave their tables. Make a selection from the menu.”

“Always the first option,” said Semi. “They brought a lot of money. They just need someone to give it to.”

Tendou hummed. “I dunno, I have a thing for the loners. Relatable, I guess.”

“Then go relate with one of them,” said Semi, giving Tendou’s shoulder a nudge toward the crowd. “Give them a private dance. Show them a good time.”

Tendou didn’t move. “I’ll pass.”

“Come on, man,” said Yamagata. He leaned into Tendou and pointed at a back table with a painful lack of subtlety. “Look at that guy. Alone, awkward, just aching for a tall, naked man to take him under his wing and grind on his lap. It could be you.”

Tendou pushed Yamagata’s arm down. “It could also be you.”

“Nah, I’m on stage in a minute. That one’s all you, man.”

“Seriously, go,” said Semi. “It’s not like you have anything better to do until it’s your turn on stage again. Might as well make some cash.” 

“I already made some cash. I’m good.”

“Make some more, then,” said Semi. He raised a brow at Tendou. “Unless you’re stalling because you don’t think you can sell him a dance. If that’s the problem, just say so.”

“Of course I could, if I wanted. Just look at me.” Tendou struck a ridiculous pose, his grin crooked. 

“Prove it, then,” said Semi. “Five thousand yen says you can’t do it.”

Tendou blinked large eyes at him. “Are you making a bet with me right now, Semi-Semi?”

“Yeah, a bet you’re about to lose. What do you think, Hayato?”

Yamagata squinted from Tendou to the far table and back again. “I don’t know. It’s a fifty-fifty shot. I’m not betting on this one. My dick just earned twice that and I’m not giving it up.”

Tendou’s face twisted in confusion, but Semi didn’t give him time to work that out.

“Five thousand, Tendou. You have five minutes, starting now.”

“I don’t remember agreeing to this.”

“Time’s ticking.”

Tendou looked to Yamagata, as if seeking support, but Yamagata only shrugged. Tendou huffed and turned back to Semi. “Five thousand, and you buy me a drink when we go out tonight.”

“Fine.”

Tendou turned on his heel and ambled off across the club, circumnavigating the stage and strolling up to the back table. He plopped down in an empty chair and leaned over to talk to the customer. Semi could see the brightness of his smile even at that distance.

“Shit. Maybe I should’ve bet, too,” said Yamagata, watching just as intently as Semi. 

“You think he can’t do it?” asked Semi.

“Nah, I think he can. I should’ve bet for him, so you’d have to pay me, too.”

Semi said nothing. He wouldn’t admit it, to Yamagata or Tendou or anyone else, but even when he’d made the bet, he expected to lose. Of course Tendou could get a private dance. Semi thought he knew that better than Tendou himself did. 

The song ended and the dancers rotated. Yamagata went to take center stage, and just as he started dancing, Tendou and the customer at the corner table rose and started toward the curtain that led to the back rooms. Tendou gave Semi a slightly uncoordinated wink just before he disappeared.

Semi huffed a laugh under his breath and went out into the crowd to find a private dance of his own.

It didn’t take long, and when he emerged from Room Three less than ten minutes later, Tendou was waiting against the hallway wall. Semi gestured toward the curtain and waited for his customer to wander back into the main area of the club before acknowledging him.

“So?” said Tendou, his grin bordering on obnoxious. “Anything you want to say to me?”

“Congratulations on doing your job,” said Semi. “The thing you should’ve been doing this entire time.”

Tendou rolled his eyes. “Don’t be a sore loser, Semi-Semi.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Semi fished out the money he’d just been handed a minute before. “Here.”

Tendou kept his arms folded. “Nope!” he said brightly. “Give it to me on stage. I like to collect my debts publicly.”

“You can’t be serious.”

Tendou peeled himself away from the wall and strolled toward the curtain. “Almost my turn. Can’t wait to be very generously tipped by the hottest dancer here. It’ll be such an honor.”

“You’re fucking ridiculous,” said Semi, but Tendou had already swept through the curtain and vanished. Semi shook his head, wiped the vague smile off of his face, and followed.

Oohira was at the pole nearest to Semi, his dance winding down. He smiled at the men who tipped him, unshakably friendly. Semi had never seen him as anything else. Oohira gathered up his earnings and headed toward the stairs at the same time that Tendou bounded up them. They traded smiles as they passed and then Tendou was at center stage, throwing himself into a body spiral on the pole that should have been messy but was somehow elegant.

With a sigh, Semi made his way to the stage-side seats and sank into one, leaning back to watch as Tendou floated around the pole as if gravity wasn’t something that applied to him. Tendou didn’t look strong at a glance. He was thin and long-limbed and looked easy to break, but his appearance was deceptive. Semi knew that already, and if he hadn’t, he would’ve known from the way Tendou climbed the pole, hand over hand, and flipped himself upside down as if he weighed nothing at all. He twisted in the air and dropped into a full split, hitting the ground in a way that would’ve left Semi sore for a week. 

Tendou crawled across the stage, more smoothly than he’d done when Semi had first started here, before he’d reluctantly offered Tendou dancing advice. He hadn’t known at the time he’d been talking to a professional performer.

Tendou collected money from the customers, working his way down the line until he reached Semi. His grin tilted into something sharper and he went up on his knees, a thumb tucked into the edge of his g-string. He tugged it down in invitation and Semi rolled his eyes as he reached out to tuck the wad of money into it. His knuckles brushed against Tendou’s stomach, firm and smooth, warm to the touch. He glanced up at Tendou as he withdrew, and was met with that taunting grin. Tendou leaned off of the stage to murmur, “Thanks, Semi-Semi.” His breath was hot on Semi’s ear as he pulled back and rose to rotate to the next pole.

Semi stared after him, the tingle of a shiver touching his spine. He shook it off as he stood, turned his back toward the stage, and wondered what had just happened. 

Someone from the crowd approached him and said with a bit of uncertainty, “Hey, Phoenix. My friend has been watching you all night. Could I get you to give him a lapdance? If that’s cool.”

Semi was grateful for the distraction. “Yeah, of course. What’s his name?”

The night progressed normally and Semi did well, as usual. When things were winding down and most of the customers had left, Yamagata said, “Yo, Semi. Will you help me work on that paradise thing again? I think I’m getting it.”

“Yeah, let’s see it.”

Semi sat on the edge of the stage and watched Yamagata struggle, pointing out his mistakes and suggesting corrections. He was making progress, and if he’d been more flexible, it would’ve been perfect.

“You just need to work on your splits,” said Semi, when Yamagata finally gave up and collapsed into a heap on the stage floor. “It’s good, otherwise. The position is right.”

“Dude,” said Yamagata. “I’m too old for this bullshit.”

Semi snorted. “Right. That’s the problem.”

“Or it could be that you never stretch,” said Kawanishi, who’d wandered over to watch Yamagata flail. “Ever.”

“Oh yeah?” said Yamagata, eyes narrowing in challenge. “Let’s see you do it then, if you’re so perfect.”

Kawanishi shrugged and mounted the stage, and fifteen seconds later he was twisted into a perfect bird of paradise, the midair split flawless even with the extra weight of his heels.

Yamagata gaped at him as he descended. “How the fuck?”

Kawanishi shrugged. “I’m extremely flexible.”

Yamagata just stared. 

Semi excused himself, afraid that this would turn into an argument. He went back to his dressing room to change and was surprised to find that Tendou wasn’t there. The red g-string was hanging off of the arm of Tendou’s chair, so Semi assumed he’d already put on his street clothes and gone. When Semi emerged into the main area of the club a few minutes later, fully clothed, Tendou still wasn’t around.

Yamagata was in the floor, scowling as he stretched his hamstrings.

“Hey, you seen Tendou?” asked Semi.

“He left like five minutes ago,” said Yamagata. He switched legs and muffled a groan into his arm. “I fucking hate stretching. It’s bullshit.”

Semi chose not to comment on that. He felt a little lost as he left the club. He could just walk to the izakaya on his own and meet the rest of the guys there. There was nothing stopping him. But there was nothing forcing him to go either, which was the reason he’d told himself he kept going back.

When he stepped outside he took a right, toward the izakaya instead of his apartment. He made it only a few steps before a voice called after him.

“There you are! Thought maybe you got lost. Or that you were trying to get out of buying me that drink.” Tendou loped up to him, grinning. “I think I’ll take the most expensive thing they have. Top shelf.”

Semi shook his head, but kept walking alongside him.

The following night was Saturday. It was one of Semi’s favorite nights to work, because aside from the unexpected Friday night crowd of the week before, Saturdays always drew in the most customers. He always went home with enough tips that he didn’t feel so bad about having a day off on Sundays. At his past jobs, when the clubs had been open every night, he hadn’t taken days off at all.

Tendou had arrived early. He was already dressed to start the night, lounging halfway across the bar to talk to Ushijima, who was setting up for the club’s opening in half an hour. Semi was still mildly confused by their friendship. Their personalities seemed too different to mesh together, as if they should be in constant contention. But Ushijima genuinely seemed to like Tendou, and Tendou seemed to like mostly everyone. 

Tendou caught sight of Semi from across the room and straightened out of his slump just enough to wave at him. Semi raised a hand in return before slipping into the back of the club. The dressing room was quiet without Tendou. Peaceful. Semi took his time getting ready, fumbled his way through the buckles of his harness, and almost wished Tendou was there to help him. When he dug through his bag for his shoes, they weren’t the same boots he usually wore. He’d brought his expensive ones, in the hopes that he would get extra tips.

It occurred to him that the only reason he’d even considered wearing them was because Tendou had mentioned it a while back, but Semi could pretend that he didn’t even remember that.

When he left the dressing room and headed for the stage area, he met Tendou in the hallway, probably on his way to harass Semi. Tendou opened his mouth to say something, but took in Semi’s appearance with a sweep of wide eyes and came to a dead stop. He stared blankly, and though Semi waited for some sort of snide comment, Tendou was silent.

There was the click of another door behind him, footsteps, and then Yamagata’s voice, full of affront. “What the  _ fuck.  _ You too, Semi? Really?” 

Semi glanced down at his shoes and then back at Yamagata. “They’re not even that tall. Kawanishi’s are higher.”

“Fuck you,” snapped Yamagata as he stomped past. “I hope you fall on your ass.” He pushed through the curtain, but immediately popped his head back through and added, just as angrily, “I didn’t mean that. Don’t actually fall.” 

The curtain fell back into place and still Tendou was staring.

“You have a problem too?” asked Semi, folding his arms.

“Nope,” said Tendou. He blinked, slowly. “No problem at all. I’m just peachy.”

“Okay then.” Semi started past him, still adjusting to the extra height beneath his feet. He paused as he passed by Tendou and realized he didn’t have to look up at him anymore. “You’re short from this angle.”

“You’re hot from this angle.”

Semi huffed a breath through his nose and went out to the stage. 

Semi raked in more tips than usual, which was only fair, considering how badly his feet hurt by the end of the night. Still, he made the best of it. At every opportunity he clacked his shoes to make everyone look at him, or slammed them into the stage every time he did a drop. They were good for drawing attention, for standing out, and those things always meant more money. On one of his final rotations before closing, he very cautiously descended the stairs, passing by Tendou on his way. Tendou said, “Semi-Semi, when you dance like that, I can’t decide if you wanna fuck someone or kill them.”

That was one of the strangest yet most flattering comments Semi had ever gotten about his dancing.

He plopped into a chair at an empty table to give his ankles some relief. Kawanishi strutted by in his own dangerously high heels and said, “Not terrible. There’s definite room for improvement.”

Semi leaned back and stretched out his legs. “If you’re trying to remind me you’re better at it, I already know.”

Kawanishi seemed satisfied by that answer. He wandered off toward the curtain, probably finished for the night. He usually stopped dancing half an hour before closing, as if that was when his tolerance ran out. It probably was. Semi was constantly surprised that Kawanishi continued showing up, considering how unhappy he always seemed.

Semi thought about trying to fit in one more private dance, but he was exhausted and his feet ached and he wanted nothing more than to go home and go to bed. Instead of getting up and working the floor, he lounged back and watched the stage, where Tendou was twisted into a complicated but artistic shape that Semi couldn’t have achieved. Tendou grabbed one ankle and let go of the pole, and although physics suggested he should fall directly to the ground, he remained suspended, hovering.

Semi remembered how Tendou had danced at the theater, wrapped in silks, tumbling and climbing and spinning with perfect finesse.

It was still baffling that Tendou chose to be on this stage, performing for this crowd of people, when he had something better.

Tendou slid to the ground, slow and controlled. When he landed he caught sight of Semi, blew him a kiss, and grinned as he crawled forward to collect his tips.

Semi expected to be annoyed.

He wasn’t.

When the next couple of songs wound down and the club was almost vacant, Semi climbed to his feet and made the trek over to the bar, which seemed further away than usual. He leaned against it and counted out Ushijima’s percentage of the private dances from the night. He passed it over, and Ushijima loaded a few more glasses into the dishwasher before taking it.

“Thank you.”

“No problem,” said Semi. “See you Monday.”

“Enjoy your day off.”

“Yeah, thanks,” said Semi. He would spend it sitting at home, the same as he did every Sunday, but Ushijima didn’t need to know that. 

Semi thought about yanking his shoes off and walking barefoot to his dressing room, but Kawanishi was still out front, so he endured the journey to save himself the embarrassment. The hallway stretched on forever but eventually he made it, only to find that Tendou had already arrived. He was halfway dressed, and when Semi stepped inside, he paused with his sweatpants pulled up around one thigh.

“Heya, Semi-Semi. Have a good night?”

“Yeah. Better than usual. Apparently guys are into the shoes. No wonder Kawanishi does so well.” Semi stepped over to his bag, which had slumped into the floor. He carefully bent over to pick it up, and there was a low whistle from behind him.

“It’s not the shoes, exactly,” said Tendou. “It’s the way they make your ass look.”

Semi glared at him over his shoulder.

“What? It’s true.” Tendou shrugged, shameless, and yanked his pants all the way on. “Don’t take it the wrong way. You always have a nice ass, no matter what you’re wearing.”

“How much time do you spend looking at my ass?”

“A perfectly normal amount,” said Tendou, as he popped his head through the neck of his t-shirt and tugged it down. 

Semi tossed his bag onto a chair and turned to scowl at Tendou. “Why do you say shit like that?”

Tendou blinked. “Shit like what?”

“About my ass, and that I’m the hottest dancer here. Shit like  _ that _ .” Semi folded his arms across his chest. “Do you mean it or are you just fucking with me?”

Tendou had to tilt his face up, just a little, to make eye contact. “I’m fucking with you.”

Semi rolled his eyes, but before he could turn away, Tendou continued.

“But,” said Tendou, “I also mean it.”

Semi hesitated. He didn’t know how to respond to that.

“Of course I think you’re the hottest dancer here,” said Tendou. “Everyone thinks that, because you are. You’re the hottest dancer anywhere. I mean, c’mon, you’ve seen yourself.”

Semi’s stare was flat. “You’re definitely fucking with me.”

“Don’t be so dense, Semi-Semi. Why do you think I risked getting fired to kiss you? It wasn’t to make tips.” Tendou shrugged, matter-of-fact. “I needed to do it one time, just to see if it was as good as I thought it would be.”

Semi stared at him, blank. Knowing that Tendou had been actively thinking about kissing him, possibly on more than one occasion, gave him a strange, buzzing sort of feeling. Semi should have turned around and changed into his street clothes. He should’ve ignored that completely and pretended this conversation never happened. He had a suspicion that they were about to step into dangerous territory and he should avoid that at all costs.

But against his better judgment, Semi said, “Was it?”

"Huh?"

"As good as you thought it would be." 

Tendou considered that, more seriously than expected. “No, it wasn’t. You said yourself it was only for show. It was okay, but it wasn’t real.”

There was a twist in Semi’s gut. He thought about kissing Tendou on stage, open-mouthed with too much tongue, as filthy as possible to please the crowd. He hadn’t felt anything, other than satisfaction when the money started rolling in.

“You’re right,” agreed Semi, “it wasn’t real.”

He should’ve left it at that. The conversation would have ended. Semi could walk away without saying anything he regretted.

Tendou combed long fingers through messy hair, setting it to disarray. It almost seemed like a nervous gesture, which was new. Tendou didn’t get nervous.

Semi swallowed, realized what he was about to say was a bad idea, and found himself saying it anyway. “I can do better.”

Tendou’s hand went still. Slowly, he let it fall to his side. “What?”

“I said I can do better.” The words had already left Semi’s mouth; there was no going back. “Come here. I’ll prove it.”

Tendou didn’t immediately move. He stared at Semi for a moment, analyzing, as if trying to decide if he was joking. But Semi didn’t make jokes, not like this, and Tendou stepped closer.

It was strange, standing taller than Tendou, even if it was just by a little. Semi reached out, hesitant, and curled a hand around the back of Tendou’s neck, the same way he’d done when they’d been on stage. He leaned in, stopped when he was a breath away from Tendou’s lips, and peered into those wide eyes.

His mouth found Tendou’s and his eyes fluttered closed as he pressed in, firmly but softly. He parted his lips, pulled away, dipped close again. He lingered, skin brushing skin, and stood upright.

Tendou stared up at him, his eyes a little hazy.

Semi licked his lips. They tingled, just a bit, but he wasn’t satisfied. 

“Wait,” said Semi. “It’s these fucking shoes. I’m thinking about not falling. Hang on.” He shoved his bag back into the floor and plopped down in the chair, battling with one shoe and then the other until they clunked to the floor. 

Tendou hadn’t moved at all, but he did now. Semi grabbed a handful of Tendou’s shirt and pushed him back until his shoulders pressed against the wall. Semi’s feet were cramping, and his ankles were sore, but he ignored that to push up on his toes and kiss Tendou into the wall. 

Tendou made a sound, muffled by Semi’s mouth. One of his hands found Semi’s bare waist, fitting around it in a careful grip. Semi was less restrained, and when his hands nested in Tendou’s hair and pulled him harder into the kiss, there was nothing careful about it. 

Semi opened his mouth and Tendou mirrored him, their lips fitting together, Semi’s tongue darting out to lick past Tendou’s teeth. Semi’s tongue piercing clinked against them and Tendou’s fingers dug into Semi’s waist, a low sound in his throat that was almost a moan. 

That only made Semi kiss him harder.

When they broke away Semi felt a few degrees too warm and his breath was coming short. Tendou was flushed, his face trying to match the shade of his hair. 

“Well?” said Semi. “Was that better?”

Tendou swallowed. “Yeah. Yeah, it was… yeah.”

Semi nodded, as if he’d accomplished something, as if he wasn’t affected by this at all. “Good.”

He turned away to return to his bag, to get dressed and get out of there before he could make any worse decisions. But Tendou caught his arm and spun him back around and they were kissing again, Tendou’s hand curving around Semi’s jaw, Semi’s fists bunching in the back of Tendou’s t-shirt.

Semi was backed into the table and hands caught at the underside of his thighs just long enough to lift him onto it. Tendou did it as if it was nothing, as if Semi was featherlight. There was another twist in Semi’s gut, deeper, more insistent. He wrapped his legs around Tendou’s waist and craned his neck back for a better angle to press his tongue into Tendou’s mouth. Semi’s fingers slipped beneath Tendou’s shirt and traveled up his back, nails digging into his shoulderblades and slowly dragging down. Tendou breathed a moan into Semi’s open mouth. 

“Fuck,” said Semi. He curled his legs tighter around Tendou, dragging him in. Their hips slotted together and Semi rocked against him, heat burning down to his core when he realized Tendou was hard. “ _ Fuck _ .”

Tendou braced a hand on the table and leaned forward, kissing him deeper. He rolled his hips and Semi broke away from the kiss to tilt his head back, squeeze his eyes shut, and rut up against Tendou. 

Tendou’s mouth found Semi’s throat and he traced a path with his tongue, sucking at the skin. Semi gripped the back of Tendou’s neck, keeping him there, encouraging him. Tendou nipped at him, a quick press of teeth. It felt good – god, it felt good – but it was the jolt that Semi needed to realize exactly what he was doing.

He sucked in a breath like he’d just emerged from the depths of the sea.

“Tendou, wait,” said Semi hoarsely. “Stop.”

Tendou went still. He pulled away slowly, eyes reflecting uncertainty. They stared at each other for a few seconds that dragged into nearly a minute, both of them flushed and breathing too heavily.

“Sorry,” said Tendou. His voice dragged low. “I got carried away.”

He tried to step back, but Semi kept his legs locked in place, holding him there.

“That’s not… It’s my fault. I did, too. We both did.” Semi breathed in deep, exhaled, and let his legs fall limp so Tendou could move away. “Fuck.”

Tendou retreated a couple of steps away, but he was still close. He hesitated before saying, “Did you actually want to do that or were you trying to prove a point?”

Semi pressed his palms over his face and tried to focus. He pushed his hands back through his hair and made himself look up at Tendou. “I wanted to. That’s the problem.”

Tendou tilted his head. “I don’t see how that’s a problem.”

“This won’t work,” said Semi. He was uncomfortably hard in his shorts and he reached down to adjust himself. Tendou’s eyes flicked down but quickly returned to Semi’s face. “We can’t do this. We work together. I don’t fuck guys I work with, and it’s even worse here.”

Tendou was remarkably calm, considering how flustered Semi felt. “Why?”

“Because,” said Semi. He pushed himself off the table and walked awkwardly around Tendou. He retrieved his shoes off the floor and shoved them in his bag. “If it goes to shit and we end up hating each other, you’re not the one who has to leave. It’s me. And yeah, I always end up leaving everywhere I go, but I’m not ready yet. I want to stay.” He yanked at the buckles of his harness, struggling with them even more than usual. 

“Semi.” Tendou knocked his hands away, gently, and worked the harness loose. “No one will make you leave, no matter what happens.”

“Bullshit. You’ve been here forever and you’re friends with everyone. They’ll take your side.”

“There won’t be a side to take,” said Tendou. He backed up as Semi started pulling his clothes on. “If anything happened between us, that’s where it would stay. Between us. It wouldn’t affect the job. Even if it didn’t work out, we wouldn’t hate each other. I wouldn’t, anyway. I could never hate you.”

“Clearly you don’t know me very well.”

“I think I do,” said Tendou. “I think that’s the real problem. You don’t want anyone to know you. It scares you, getting close to someone.”

Semi glared at him.

“Look,” said Tendou. He held his hands up, as if in surrender. “We can pretend this never happened. And by  _ we  _ I mean  _ you _ , because I’m gonna remember that forever.”

Semi zipped his bag up so hard he wouldn’t have been surprised if it ripped apart.

“But I’m not gonna say anything to anyone,” said Tendou. “It’s done, it’s over. If you never want to think about it again, that’s fine. But…” He trailed off, for long enough that Semi made himself turn to look at him. “I like you, Semi-Semi. I really do. And not only because you just gave me a full-on religious experience. I like you, and if you decide you might be into this, we can talk about it.” Tendou knelt to pick up a pair of shorts that had fallen out of Semi’s bag. Semi frowned as he reached out to take them and Tendou continued, “If you don’t want this because you don’t like me, that’s cool, we’re still friends. No hard feelings.”

Tendou turned away to collect his jacket. Semi found it easier to breathe when Tendou wasn’t looking directly at him.

“But if you do,” said Tendou, still facing the wall, “I promise it won’t affect your job here. If some catastrophe happens, I’ll leave. I can live without it.”

“Why would you risk it?” asked Semi. He felt like he hadn’t spoken in a long time, although it had only been a couple of minutes. 

“I don’t mind taking chances, if the payoff is worth it,” said Tendou. He zipped up his jacket, tucked his hands in his pockets, and grinned at Semi. “And you’re worth it.”

Semi tried to take a breath but couldn’t quite find one.

“I have practice in the morning,” said Tendou, as he shuffled to the door. “I’m free the rest of the day, though. If you want to hang out or something, let me know. If you don’t, that’s fine. I won’t bother you.” He opened the door with his elbow and was halfway out as he said, “Have a good night, Semi-Semi. See ya later.”

The door snapped shut behind him and Semi slouched into a chair, his forehead pressed into his palms.

He’d made a terrible mistake.

He just didn’t know if that mistake was starting something with Tendou or ending it before it began. 


	9. Chapter 9

On Sunday morning, Semi woke up around noon, as usual.

Unlike usual, he had three missed calls from Yamagata.

He sat up in the rumpled sheets and scratched at his scalp, squinting down at his phone and wondering what Yamagata could possibly be calling him about. He considered ignoring it in the hopes that Yamagata would forget about whatever he needed, but after a few fuzzy minutes of deliberation, he dialed the number to call back.

He realized, as it rang, that he’d never given Yamagata his number, and he had no idea how Yamagata’s name was registered in his phone.

“Yo, Semi! It’s about time, thought you’d sleep all day.”

“How’d you get my number?” said Semi, voice thick and groggy.

“Broke into your dressing room while you were on stage last night,” said Yamagata, shameless. “But I put my number in your phone too so it’s fair. Anyway, what’re you doing right now?”

Semi was too confused to be angry. “Sleeping.”

“Well get up and come meet me for brunch.”

Semi pulled the phone away from his face, squinted at it, and raised it again to repeat, “Brunch?”

“Well I guess just plain boring lunch now, thanks to your sleep schedule. There’s this cool place close to Plumage, I’ll text you the address. I’m trying to talk Taichi into coming but he says he’d rather die in a car crash.”

“What the fuck,” said Semi, so flatly that it wasn’t even a question.

“Right? He’s overly dramatic. Anyway, I’ll meet you there in thirty minutes. See you!” 

With that the call ended, and Semi was more confused than ever. He tossed his phone aside and collapsed onto his back with a huff, eyes closed and limbs splayed wide. He thought about going back to sleep and ignoring Yamagata completely. There was no reason to go meet him. It wasn’t as if they were friends or something. 

Semi didn’t have friends. He didn’t need them.

Five minutes later he rolled upright and felt his way across the curtain-darkened room to put some clothes on.

He met Yamagata at a café he’d never noticed, sandwiched between a cell phone store and a smoothie shop a block away from the club. The sunlight was brutal and Semi kept his hood pulled low to shade his eyes. Yamagata was already there, seated at a high-top table with a pair of sunglasses perched on top of his head. He smiled and waved when he caught sight of Semi and gestured to the chair in front of him, as if Semi needed the direction. Semi hauled himself into it and took a scan of the café before pushing his hood back. 

“I was only like fifty percent sure you’d show up,” said Yamagata brightly. “You sounded like you were about to fall asleep again.”

Semi grumbled something that wasn’t really a response.

“Lucky for us,” said Yamagata, snapping his menu open, “they serve breakfast all day here, so we can still call it brunch.”

“Why do you care so much about brunch?”

Yamagata shrugged. “Seems like the kind of thing rich people do. I’m trying to be high class.”

Semi frowned at him. He wasn’t completely sure he was awake. Maybe he was still asleep and dreaming up this entire interaction. That would make more sense.

“Also it’s a good excuse to drink first thing in the morning,” added Yamagata, his smile growing as their server approached.

That sounded more like him. Yamagata ordered something alcoholic that was mixed with grapefruit juice, and Semi was still tired enough that he asked for the same thing. 

“Last night was a good one, huh?” said Yamagata, propping his elbows on the table and kicking his feet against his chair. “I did great, so you must’ve done amazing.”

“Yeah, I guess.” 

“I’m exhausted, though.” Yamagata stretched his arms over his head, groaning as his shoulders popped. “Who would’ve thought stripping would be so hard? I had no idea when I started. I almost died my first night. Couldn’t move for three days.”

The server returned to deliver their drinks before sweeping away again. Semi reached for his, for lack of anything better to do. It was fizzy on his tongue.

“What’d you do before?” asked Semi, poking at the drink with the cocktail straw sticking over the rim.

“Not much of anything,” said Yamaga with a shrug. “Worked retail here and there. Tried to be a waiter but I kept dropping everything.” Somewhere from a distant kitchen came the sound of shattering glass. Yamagata laughed and gestured. “Yeah, like that. I was too much of a lazy street kid to do anything for too long. I always liked dancing, though. Mostly b-boying, but hey, dancing is dancing, right?”

“I guess,” said Semi, as Yamagata slurped down half of his drink in one go.

“I’m glad none of it worked out, though,” said Yamagata. “Otherwise I wouldn’t be here, and working at Plumage is great. Never thought I’d have a job where people just throw money at me all the time.”

That was the most optimistic thing Semi had ever heard someone say about their particular profession.

The server returned. They ordered food and Yamagata ordered another drink for both of them, without consulting Semi.

“Anyway,” said Yamagata, when they were alone again. “Tendou said you had a pretty bad migraine the other night. You alright?”

There was a strange lurch in Semi’s gut at the mention of Tendou. He didn’t acknowledge it. “Yeah, I’m fine. It happens sometimes.”

“That sucks, man.”

“Yeah.”

Yamagata started talking about something else. Semi caught enough to know he was elaborating on his cousin’s rare medical condition, but he couldn’t listen too closely. His mind drifted, and he wondered when Tendou had talked to Yamagata about him, and if Tendou often talked about Semi when he wasn’t around. 

He shook the thought away. It didn’t matter. It was irrelevant.

“There you are!” said Yamagata, loudly enough to snap Semi out of his thoughts. “Pull up a chair, join the party.”

Semi whipped his head around, expecting to find Tendou standing behind him. But it wasn’t, and he was not disappointed.

Kawanishi glanced between the pair of them, in no rush to join them. “I didn’t think Semi would show up.”

“I was surprised too,” said Yamagata, “but not as surprised as I am to see you out of your coffin. Isn’t your skin burning from all this sunlight?”

“Yes, it is.” Kawanishi sat in one of the tall chairs, more easily than either of them. He glanced at Semi and said, “You look weird.”

Semi frowned. “Okay?”

“It’s the eyeliner, I think,” said Yamagata, also squinting at him. “He looks different without it. Less angry.”

They both stared at him, and Semi thought about leaving.

Finally Kawanishi shrugged and turned away, taking a sip of Yamagata’s drink as if he’d ordered it himself. “You look worse, Hayato. You should lay off the drinking.”

“Fuck you. I don’t drink that much.”

“It’s noon.”

“So? Semi’s drinking, too.”

“Semi isn’t a functioning alcoholic.”

“Mind your own business, asshole.”

Kawanishi shrugged and finished off Yamagata’s drink, placing the empty glass in the exact center of the table. “Drink yourself into an early grave, then. I couldn’t care less.”

Yamagata glared at him, but the sour mood didn’t last long. Food was delivered shortly after, and Yamagata was immediately cheerful again. 

“So what’re you doing for the rest of the day?” he said, through a mouth full of food. Kawanishi watched him with disdain.

“I don’t know,” said Semi. He did not think about Tendou. “Nothing, probably.”

“C’mon, I expected you to have a wild, exciting life outside the club,” said Yamagata. “You’re letting me down.”

“Not everyone needs constant social stimulation like you,” said Kawanishi.

“If I’d known you were just gonna be a dick the whole time, I wouldn’t have invited you.”

“Remember that for next time, then.”

A short while later the table was cleared, Yamagata had one last drink while Kawanishi watched him with one judgmental eyebrow raised, and the three of them left the café. Yamagata yanked his sunglasses down to fight the glare of the sun. Kawanishi really did look odd standing on the street in the middle of the day. Semi had only seen him at night. 

“See you tomorrow, then,” said Yamagata, slapping Semi’s shoulder in farewell. “Thanks for crawling out of bed to have brunch with us. We’ll do it again sometime.”

“Speak for yourself,” said Kawanishi. He gave Semi a sidelong look and a slight incline of his head before walking away. Yamagata went after him, waving one more time over his shoulder before disappearing into the crowd.

Semi didn’t immediately move. He stayed there on the sidewalk, in the shade of the café’s overhang, staring across the street at nothing. It wasn’t a far walk home. He could be there in ten minutes and resume his usual Sunday routine of sitting in his living room alone. He’d done it for as long as he could remember. 

It’s what he should have done. It was the safe thing to do.

He pulled out his phone and stared at it, long enough that the café door opened and closed at least a dozen times.

When he made the call he closed his eyes and waited, already regretting it.

“Hello?” the voice was familiar, but the tone wasn’t. It was a little too subdued, a little too careful. 

Semi almost hung up. 

“Hey.”

“Heya, Semi-Semi.” There were a few seconds of silence. “Whatcha doing?”

“Nothing. I had lunch with Yamagata and Kawanishi.”

Tendou laughed, but even that sounded different than usual. “Seriously? How’d Hayato bribe either of you into that?”

“I don’t know. You busy?”

There was silence, except for the crowd bustling around him. Semi counted to seven.

“No,” said Tendou. “You want to come over?”

Semi reached up to pull his hood further over his face. He stared at the sidewalk between his feet. “Yeah. Just to talk.”

“Sure. I like talking. Where are you? I’ll give you directions.”

Semi ended the call two minutes later, but he continued to stand in the exact same spot, unmoving. He didn’t know what he was doing, or why he’d called Tendou, or why he was going over to his apartment now. He didn’t know why he’d kissed him the night before, or why he was wondering if he might kiss him again.

This was stupid. It was stupid and dangerous and Semi knew better.

He should have gone home.

Semi slipped into the crowd, followed Tendou’s directions, and found himself at an apartment complex much nicer than his own. He took the stairs, counting each one of them as he ascended, and stepped onto the correct floor. He dragged his feet as he paced the hallway, and when he found himself in front of Tendou’s door, he almost couldn’t bring himself to knock.

Semi didn’t know what he was doing. He didn’t even like Tendou. Tendou was loud and obnoxious and Semi had disliked him from the first night they’d met. He’d almost gotten Semi fired a couple of weeks ago. It would be smart to keep his distance.

Semi took a breath, released it.

All of those things were true about Tendou, but Semi didn’t feel the same acid bite of irritation toward him that he had in the past. Tendou had taken him home during his last migraine, had given him his medication and waited to make sure he was okay. Tendou had gently harassed him into socializing with the other dancers until Semi felt more comfortable around them than he had around anyone in a long time. Sure, Tendou had gotten them in trouble with the on-stage kiss, but he’d tried to take full responsibility for it, so Semi wouldn’t be blamed.

Semi thought maybe he didn’t hate Tendou as much as he pretended to. He wasn’t even pretending well anymore.

He tapped at the door quietly. He thought maybe Tendou wouldn’t hear and he would be given a free pass to leave.

But the door swung inward and Tendou appeared. Semi was relieved, and hated himself for it.

“Hey, Semi-Semi,” said Tendou. He was grinning, as usual. “Come on in. Didn’t have time to clean up, though. Promise you won’t think I’m a slob.”

“I already think that, so it doesn’t matter,” said Semi. “Your dressing room is a disaster.”

“ _ Our  _ dressing room,” corrected Tendou, his grin pulling higher. He stepped back and Semi went inside.

It was about what Semi would have expected. The apartment was nice, and so were the things inside. The furniture was gently used, the kitchen countertops were marble, and despite the articles of clothing strewn about, it was clean. 

“Welcome to paradise,” said Tendou, sweeping a hand around. “For now, anyway. My lease is up soon. I’m moving somewhere better.”

Somewhere better. This was better than anywhere Semi had lived in his life.

He should have left. He didn’t belong there.

“Have a seat, make yourself at home,” said Tendou, shuffling over to toss a couple of jackets off of the couch to make room. “I’d offer you a drink or something but I’m guessing Hayato took care of that, whether you wanted it or not.”

Semi kicked off his shoes and eased his way inside, almost cautiously. He still didn’t know what he was doing there, or what he wanted to do. This was new territory for him. He’d kept to himself for so long that he didn’t know the social protocol for this.

He sat down on the couch and Tendou plopped down beside him. He seemed perfectly at ease, until Semi took a better look at him.

Tendou must have showered just before Semi had called him. His hair was a little damp, falling down around his ears and curling at the ends. He was dressed in sweatpants and a too-big t-shirt. He looked different than he did at Plumage, almost like a different person. His expression didn’t help. His grin looked the same on the surface, but on closer expression it was a little tight, just like the corners of his eyes. 

Tendou looked away from Semi and pushed a hand through his wet hair. It was the same nervous habit from the night before.

“How was practice?” asked Semi, just for something to say before the silence between them grew too large.

“It was good. We’re putting a new show together. We only run them for two or three months at a time, depending on how popular they are. Then we open a new one.”

“How long have you been there? At the theater, I mean.”

Tendou tilted his head back to glance at the ceiling as he pondered. “Almost a year now. I auditioned for a whole extra year before that and didn’t get picked. That’s when I started working at Plumage. I needed money and Wakatoshi got me hired. He was a dancer back then too, before he took over the club.”

“Bullshit.”

Tendou blinked, then grinned. “What, you can’t picture Wakatoshi shaking his ass for money? He was good at it. His interactions with the customers left something to be desired, but he was sex personified on stage. You should see him naked. He’s like a Greek god.”

Semi didn’t know what his face was doing exactly, but Tendou found it hilarious.

“C’mon, Semi-Semi. You can’t say you’ve never thought about it. Everyone has a crush on Wakatoshi.”

“No, thanks,” said Semi, his nose scrunching. “Not interested.”

“Not your type?”

“Not really.”

Tendou hummed to himself. He leaned back against the couch, watching Semi. He seemed perfectly content but he pushed a hand through his hair again. “What is, then?”

The question was only surface-deep, but Semi knew it was more than that. Tendou wasn’t asking out of casual curiosity. 

Semi thought about his answer carefully and finally said, “I don’t know. I’ve never dated enough to have a type. It’s always just been a night here and there, and type doesn’t matter for that.”

“I figured you’d be a pro at dating,” said Tendou. His tone was gently teasing, but his face was serious. “Who wouldn’t want to date you?”

“Everyone who’s ever had a conversation with me, probably,” said Semi. He leaned against the arm of the couch and stared at a stray sock halfway across the room. “I’ve never really wanted to. It seems like too much work for nothing. And I don’t…” Semi hesitated, bit back the words. “I don’t know. Nevermind.”

“Semi?”

“What?” The word snapped, harder than Semi meant it to.

“You can talk to me, you know,” said Tendou, quietly. “That’s what you came over here for, right?”

Semi expelled a breath, pulled a knee onto the couch, and stared down at it. “I don’t date because I don’t trust anyone. I hooked up with this one guy for over a month and I woke up one day and he’d robbed me fucking blind. And anyone else who’s ever stayed around for more than one night just wanted to fuck me longer. Dating is stupid.”

Tendou was quiet. It was discomfiting. As often as Semi had wanted him to shut up in the past, he didn’t want that now.

“Sounds like you were with all the wrong people.” Tendou curled his knees against his chest and wrapped his arms around his shins. 

“That’s the kind of people that like me,” said Semi. He stared at the knee of his jeans. A hint of skin was showing through the threads. “It’s what I deserve, I guess.”

“That’s not true. You know it’s not.”

Semi said nothing.

Tendou tilted his head, rested it on his knees, and stared at Semi with big eyes. “You have such a low opinion of yourself, Semi-Semi. I wish you didn’t.”

“It’s not an opinion, it’s just-”

“Well it’s sure not the truth,” said Tendou, cutting him off. “I like you. Am I that kind of person? The kind who would use you or steal from you?”

“No,” said Semi. “You must just be a little stupid.”

Tendou laughed. It was familiar, genuine, and a little of the tension in Semi’s chest drizzled away.

“Maybe I am,” said Tendou, smiling, “but I’m right about this. Don’t isolate yourself just because you’ve been around a lot of assholes in the past. There are good people, too. People who wouldn’t treat you like that.”

Semi glanced at him. “People like you, you mean.”

Tendou’s expression shifted into something more solemn. “Yeah, people like me. Other people, too. I’m not saying this to try and convince you to like me back. I’m not trying to… to manipulate you, or something.”

Semi chewed at the inside of his mouth. The thought had crossed his mind and now he felt a little bad for it.

“I just think the way you cut yourself off from everyone makes you unhappy,” said Tendou. He was still looking at Semi as if he was the only thing in the room, as if he was the only thing that mattered. It was unsettling. “And I don’t like my friends being unhappy. And yeah, I like you, but it’s not about that. You don’t have to like me, too. I’m just trying to be here for you. You shouldn’t have to walk through life all by yourself, Semi-Semi. You’ve gotta learn to trust someone.”

“No one’s ever given me any reason to trust them.”

Tendou smiled, tight and strained. “Guess I’ll have to try harder, then.”

Guilt prickled at the back of Semi’s neck. He hadn’t meant it like that, but he didn’t try and take it back. He couldn’t. If he did, he would have to say that he did trust Tendou, and he didn’t know if it was true. He didn’t know if he wanted it to be true. 

Semi picked at the knee of his jeans. He didn’t know what he was supposed to say.

“So…” said Tendou, dragging the word too long. “Do you wanna watch tv or something? Or I have board games. Or we can keep sitting here in awkward silence. Whatever you wanna do.”

Semi raised his head. Tendou’s smile was a little easier, more natural. He looked more like himself. “Why? You know I’m not the best company.”

“You’re a little broody,” said Tendou with a shrug. “That’s all. I still like having you around.”

Semi didn’t know why, not at all. He’d thought when Tendou had offered to hang out last night that he’d only wanted to fuck. “We shouldn’t play games. I get mad when I lose.”

“Oh?” said Tendou, perking up. “We’re definitely playing games, then. I want to see you throw a temper tantrum.” He hopped off the couch and disappeared into the next room. Semi stared after him until Tendou called, “Come in here and pick which game you wanna lose at, Semi-Semi!”

Semi huffed under his breath, but got up to follow. 

Semi didn’t like having friends. Even when he’d been a teenager, it hadn’t been his priority. The other guys on his street were criminals in the making, slinging drugs and breaking into cars and queuing up for one-way tickets to juvenile detention. Dropping out of high school to strip, with the aid of a fake ID, had been an entirely reasonable thing to do in comparison. It was better than falling in with the wrong people, better than ending up in a jail cell. He took care of himself, the same as he always had, and ignored everyone else.

That had been three years ago, and for the first time since then, Semi had friends; whether he wanted them or not.

Yamagata barked laughter, loud enough that the people across the izakaya turned to look their way. “And then the guy said, _I’ve never seen anyone like you before. Your hair color is beautiful_. And Semi looked at him all serious and said, _Thanks, I got it at the convenience store down the street._ ”

Tendou cackled, even louder than Yamagata. Oohira chuckled across the table and Semi pressed a hand over his face, wishing he could just melt away.

“Obviously I dye my hair,” said Semi, when the laughter faded. “It was a stupid fucking thing for him to say.”

“He wasn’t trying to sound smart, he was trying to get in your pants,” said Yamagata. “Well, your underwear I guess, you weren’t wearing pants at the time.”

Tendou snorted. “I can’t believe I missed that. More importantly, I can’t believe you said that to a customer, Semi-Semi. I thought you were a professional.”

Semi let his hand fall away from his face to slap against the table. “What else was I supposed to say?”

Yamagata leaned his elbows on the table and fluttered his eyelashes. “You’re so kind, thank you, sir. I’ll let you run your fingers through my hair if you buy a private dance.”

Kawanishi gave him a look of utter disgust. “Never do that with your face again.”

“What? I’m just trying to do the thing Semi does, when he drags all his helpless victims into the back room.”

“Like a siren,” said Tendou brightly. “Luring men to their deaths. Well, the death of their savings account, anyway.”

Ushijima studied Semi from across the table. “Which part is dyed?”

Tendou and Yamagata started laughing again, and Semi folded his arms on the table so he could hide his face in them.

If they’d been laughing  _ at  _ him, he would have gotten up and left. But it wasn’t like that. It was different, companionable, and he knew it. He just wasn’t sure why, or how he’d gotten to that point, or when he’d stopped hating these Friday night outings.

“Yo, Semi, you ever hear about the time Taichi threw a drink in some dude’s face?” said Yamagata. “It was before you started working with us. It was hilarious.”

“Don’t,” said Kawanishi, the word clipped.

“C’mon, it was great. Probably the best thing that’s ever happened. So Taichi had just started, right? So he was still young and naïve and-”

“If you tell that story, you’ll be the one with a drink thrown in your face, Hayato.”

“Whatever. You wouldn’t.”

Kawanishi’s eyes narrowed. Semi thought he would.

Oohira spoke up. “So Tendou, when does your new show start?”

“Three weeks, probably,” said Tendou, eyeing Kawanishi as if expecting him to launch himself at Yamagata. “We’re ironing out the choreography. It’s gonna be pretty cool.” 

Oohira asked follow-up questions until the tension at the table eased. Yamagata flinched as Kawanishi reached for his drink, but he only took a sip and turned away. 

“We have classes at the theater a couple times a week,” said Tendou. Semi belatedly realized he was being addressed. “Silks classes, I mean. You should come give it a shot. You’d have a good time.”

Semi remembered the opening scene of Tendou’s show, the way he’d tumbled toward the floor and been snatched back up at the last second. “No, thanks. I’ll stick with a pole. At least I know I won’t fucking die.”

Tendou grinned, but let the conversation drop.

They stayed for a while, until the izakaya was otherwise empty, and Semi’s yawns came more frequently, and Yamagata dozed off with his head tilted against the back of the booth. He almost fell in the floor when Kawanishi nudged him awake. 

They left together. Everyone said their goodbyes and broke off in different directions. 

Semi lingered, and so did Tendou.

“You going home, Semi-Semi?”

“It’s four a.m. Where else would I go?”

Tendou shrugged. “Just asking. Want me to walk with you?”

“No. Just because I live in a shitty apartment building doesn’t mean I might get shot walking down the street alone.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

Semi sighed. He hadn’t meant to be that abrasive. “I know.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah.”

Tendou nodded. “Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow night, then?”

“Yeah. Tomorrow.”

“Have a good night, Semi-Semi.” Tendou waved at him before heading down the street. His shadow paced alongside him, long and thin just like Tendou himself. 

Semi stared after him until he was out of sight. He pulled his hood on and started off toward his apartment, lighter than usual, because he’d left his bag in the dressing room at Plumage.

He made it home without incident. After turning the locks he took a shower and sat on the edge of his bed rather than crawling into it. He weighed his phone in his hand and switched it back and forth between his palms, thinking. Finally, he made a call and held it to his ear.

“Yes?”

“Were you still awake?” said Semi.

“Of course. Is something wrong?”

“No.” Semi hesitated and closed his eyes as he said, “Can I have Monday night off? I have something I want to do.”

There was a pause. At length, Ushijima said, “It will be slow. You may take off if you would like.”

“Thanks, Ushijima.”

“It is no problem. I do not mind if you take an extra day for yourself every week. You are not required to work every night we are open.”

“Yeah, I know, I just… Just this one Monday is fine. Thanks.”

“Goodnight, Semi.”

“’Night.”

Semi ended the call and crawled into bed. He was exhausted, but he didn't sleep for a long time.


	10. Chapter 10

On Monday, Semi went through the same routine as usual. He got up a short time after noon and showered, then burned a couple of hours lounging on the couch, eating leftover takeout. He answered texts from Yamagata, which was new but quickly becoming part of his everyday routine. He peeled himself up to get ready at the same time as usual and stood in front of the mirror to trace his eyes in black. But when he dressed himself, it wasn’t in the usual baggy sweats and zip-up hoodie that he wore before his shifts. He fought his way into a pair of black skinny jeans, realized he didn’t have any nice shirts, and settled with the newest t-shirt he owned. He did have a decent jacket that had been left in his Yokohoma apartment by a one-night stand. He pulled it on, the leather soft against his neck as he folded the collar down.

He stood in front of the cracked bathroom mirror and decided he looked strange. He never cared about his appearance unless he was working, and then he was trying to be appealing in a different sort of way. He fussed with his hair, failed to make it cooperate, and turned away from his reflection with a shake of his head. It didn’t matter what he looked like, anyway. He shouldn’t care.

He only made it to the bathroom door before turning back and messing with his hair some more.

The sun was going down as he walked through the streets, the sky painted in fading purple. He hardly noticed. He was too busy wondering what the hell he was doing and why he hadn’t just gone to work instead.

The memory of his trip with Yamagata got him there, and he stood on the sidewalk in front of the theater, staring up at the solid pillars with an anxious twist in his gut. He went inside, bought a ticket, and sat alone near the middle of the audience. The crowd was lighter than it had been on opening night, but there were still people scattered through the seats, most of them gathered near the front. Semi’s row was empty, which was comforting. It was also comforting when the lights went down and he was swallowed by darkness.

At least until the curtains opened and the light of the stage touched his face. He watched Tendou fall, watched him catch himself just above the floor. He watched him glide and float and dance, and Semi knew there were other performers, at least a dozen of them, but he didn’t have attention to spare for anyone else.

Semi didn’t hate Tendou. He didn’t hate him, and admitting that to himself was difficult and uncomfortable and a little bit scary.

But not as scary as recognizing that he liked Tendou, at least a little, at least as a friend.

At least, but maybe…

The show ended. The dancers gathered in a row at the front of the stage and bowed in unison, acknowledging the applause ringing through the theater. Semi’s hands were in his lap. He didn’t clap. He didn’t do anything except watch Tendou until the curtains closed.

The lights went up again and Semi rose with them. He made his way toward the exit, following the crowd, but branched off before he reached the doors. He had only a vague recollection of navigating the twisted hallways with Yamagata, but he retraced the steps that he remembered and guessed at the ones he didn’t. Eventually, after a couple of wrong turns, he heard a distant buzz of voices. His pulse kicked with a strange spike of nerves, but he ignored it and followed the sound. It was the same hallway from before. The performers were gathered around talking, some of them propped against the wall, a couple of them exhaling puffs of smoke from vape pens. 

It wasn’t hard to spot Tendou, but it was hard for Semi to approach him.

He cleared his throat, again wondered what he was doing there, and forced himself to say, “Hey, Tendou.”

Tendou turned. There was a half-smile on his face, but it vanished as he faced Semi. He stared, wide-eyed, and his surprise would have been comical if Semi hadn’t been so uncomfortable. “Semi? Why’re you here?”

“To watch the show. Why else would I be here?”

Tendou blinked and stared past him, as if looking for someone else. “It’s not the new show yet. You’ve seen this one already.”

“Maybe I wanted to see it again.”

“Oh.” Tendou paused, brows pinched. “Shouldn’t you be working?”

Semi huffed, frustrated, and turned away. “Yeah, I should be. Nevermind.”

“Semi-Semi, wait. I didn’t mean it like that.”

Semi stopped a few paces away and swiveled back to find that Tendou had followed. 

“I’m glad you came,” said Tendou, his voice quieter. “I’m just surprised.”

Semi shoved his hands into his pockets. He knew what he’d been planning to say, but wasn’t sure if he could say it.

“How was it?” said Tendou, after a brief silence. “The show?”

“It was the same as last time. You were great.”

Tendou’s grin finally came back, creeping across his face in a softer curve than usual. “That’s probably the nicest thing you’ve said to me, Semi-Semi. Look at you, getting all soft and sentimental.”

“Fuck off,” mumbled Semi. He wasn’t even mad when Tendou laughed. Semi braced himself, stared slightly over Tendou’s shoulder, and said, “You want to go get dinner or something?”

“Right now?”

“No, next year,” said Semi with a roll of his eyes. “Yes, right now. If you don’t want to, it’s fine. Just say so.”

He expected some sort of snide remark, but Tendou said, “Sure. I can meet you out front in about ten minutes.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

Semi trekked back through the empty hallways and finally found his way to the exit. He stood outside, his back against the white stone front of the theater, and scuffed the heel of his boot back and forth over the sidewalk while he waited.

It felt like a long stretch of time, but it was only several minutes dragging by at a deceptively slow speed.

“Ready?”

Semi raised his head to find Tendou, dressed in sweats and a jacket printed with the theater’s logo. He was still in full makeup, his hair peaked higher than usual. It made him look taller but Semi knew it was an illusion.

“Yeah,” said Semi. “Where do you want to go?”

“Wherever. Doesn’t matter.” Tendou glanced at Semi and then down at himself. “I didn’t bring any nice clothes to change into after the show. Sorry.”

“I don’t care. It’s not like I’m dressed that great, either.” 

“Don’t lie to yourself, Semi-Semi. You’re devilishly handsome, as always.”

Semi rolled his eyes and turned away from him, starting down the sidewalk and trusting that Tendou would follow. “We’ll just walk until we find somewhere to stop. Tell me when you see something.”

Tendou fell into stride beside him, hands tucked in his pockets and a smile on his face. “Will do.”

They ended up at a restaurant that was nice, but not so nice that Semi felt out of place when he walked through the door. They sat in a back corner, eating and talking about the show and wondering what was going on at Plumage in their absence.

“I’m surprised you took a night off work,” said Tendou. “That seems to be against your moral code.”

“Ushijima said it was fine.”

“Of course he did. That’s not the point.”

Semi knew that, but he didn’t want to talk about it. “I’ll make up for it this weekend. Maybe I’ll wear the shoes again if the fucking blisters on my feet are gone by then.”

Tendou laughed and their dinner continued comfortably.

It was only when they left that Semi felt the kick of nerves again.

“Thanks for dinner, Semi-Semi,” said Tendou, when they emerged back onto the sidewalk. “You didn’t have to pay for mine.”

Semi said nothing. 

“You sure you’re okay?” said Tendou. He’d asked a few times over the course of the meal. “You’re acting weird.”

“I told you I’m fine.”

Tendou shrugged. “Okay, then. Just making sure. I’ll probably come by Plumage on Wednesday after the show. Maybe I’ll pay you back for dinner in tips.”

“No, you won’t,” said Semi. “I didn’t buy it so you’d owe me.”

“Okay.”

The air was cold on Semi’s face and in his throat as he took a deep breath. “Tendou.”

“Hmm?”

Semi was very aware that they were still standing on the sidewalk, somewhat awkwardly. “I’d invite you back to my place, if my apartment wasn’t so shitty.”

Tendou, who was always moving at least a little, even if it was an unconscious sway, went completely still. “What?”

“You heard me.”

“I thought I did, but I might’ve misheard.”

“You didn’t.”

Tendou stared at him. Semi wasn’t looking directly at him, but he could feel it. Tendou said, “Why?”

Semi didn’t answer. 

There was silence except for the crowd around them; mumbled conversations and the hum of traffic. It lasted a little too long, until Semi wanted to crawl out of his own skin.

Tendou said, quietly, “Semi-Semi? Do you wanna come back to my place?”

Semi chewed at his lip and a piercing clinked against his teeth. He shouldn’t have hesitated. He was the one who’d brought it up. Still, it was harder than it should have been for him to say, “Yeah.”

The walk to Tendou’s apartment was long and unnerving. It felt like forever, but once they arrived, like no time at all. Tendou unlocked the door and let Semi in as if this was normal. Semi knelt to unlace his boots and left them by the door before shrugging off his jacket and hanging it beside Tendou’s. He felt exposed without it, which was ridiculous. He danced mostly naked in front of an audience on a nightly basis. Jeans and a t-shirt were like a hazmat suit in comparison.

“Do you want a drink or something?” said Tendou, leading the way further into the apartment. It was in the same state of disarray as last time. “There’s probably some beer in the fridge that Yamagata left a couple weeks ago. I don’t have much of anything else, though.”

“I’m fine,” said Semi.

Tendou turned to face him, hands still in his pockets. His arms were bare now and there was the faintest trace of glitter caught in the hair of his forearms. “Is there something you want to talk about, Semi-Semi?”

Semi stared up at him. A dozen responses formed and died in his head. He didn’t know what to say.

So he didn’t say anything.

He reached out, curled a hand in the front of Tendou’s shirt, and yanked him into a clumsy kiss. Tendou made a surprised noise against his mouth but kissed him back immediately, his head tilting, lips fitting more neatly against Semi’s. Semi released Tendou’s shirt and rested his hand at the back of Tendou’s neck instead, stretching up to kiss him better, nipping at Tendou’s lip in a way that made him gasp. 

Semi pulled back and whipped his shirt over his head, tossing it in the floor alongside a discarded pair of jeans. Tendou’s eyes went wide, as if he hadn’t seen Semi’s bare chest a hundred times before.

Semi reached for him again, but Tendou said, “Semi-Semi?”

“What?”

“Is this… Are you sure this is what you want? After that one time in the dressing room you said-”

“I know what I said.” Semi slipped a hand beneath Tendou’s shirt to rest on his waist. “If you want me to leave, tell me. I will.”

Tendou stared down at him, concerned. “I don’t want you to leave. Of course I don’t. You know that by now.”

“Then don’t worry about it.” Semi slipped his other hand in the back of Tendou’s hair, found a grip, and pulled him down again. He parted his lips as they kissed and licked into Tendou’s mouth when he did the same. He moved closer, hips pressing in against Tendou’s, chests brushing as he took the kiss deeper. There was still something itching in the back of Semi’s head, something that was the same toxic red of a warning sign, but he pretended it wasn’t there. 

Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe he would regret it.

Maybe, but he would worry about that later. He’d already made the decision to do it and he wasn’t backing out now.

Semi peeled away from Tendou’s mouth and disentangled himself to take a step back. He grazed a thumb along his bottom lip, wiping away saliva. He wanted to say something but the words wouldn’t come. Instead he turned away and started toward Tendou’s bedroom. He’d only caught a glimpse of it the last time he’d been there, but he planned to get better acquainted. 

The light was off, but there was enough of a glow streaming in from the streetlamp right outside the window that it didn’t matter. Semi could see the wrinkled sheets of the unmade bed and the clothes tossed haphazardly in the corner. He fought with his jeans and struggled to get them down his hips and onto the floor. Tendou watched him from the doorway.

“Semi-Semi?”

“What?”

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Do I look sure?”

“I need to hear you say it.”

Semi pushed his hair off of his forehead as Tendou took a few tentative steps closer. “Yeah. I want to do this.”

That must have been the reassurance Tendou needed. He rested a hand at the side of Semi’s face to tilt his head back before leaning in to kiss him, less hesitant than before, their tongues meeting and twisting together, the piercing in Semi’s clicking against Tendou’s teeth. Semi exhaled into Tendou’s mouth, dug his fingers into Tendou’s shirt, and yanked it up. They broke away as it was whisked off and then they were back, colliding. Semi gripped at a bare, narrow waist. 

Semi pushed and Tendou went, falling into a seat at the edge of the bed, his neck still craned back to find Semi’s mouth. Semi sucked at Tendou’s tongue and earned a shudder that he felt against his palms. When Semi broke away his face was warm and his thoughts were hazy. He dropped to kneel between Tendou’s knees, hands braced on Tendou’s inner thighs. He looked up at Tendou, whose lips were red and kiss-bitten.

“Take your pants off.” Semi tugged at a handful of sweats as he said it.

Tendou started to reach toward Semi but pulled his hand back at the last second. “Semi-Semi. Hold on a second.”

“Why? I’m trying to suck your dick.”

Tendou’s face flared, obvious even in the dim light. “We need to talk. Before we do this.”

Semi sat back on his heels, hands still on Tendou’s thighs. “What is there to talk about?”

Tendou’s hands came to rest on top of Semi’s and slowly pried them away. “Just listen to me. Two minutes.”

Semi huffed a breath. “Fine. Two minutes. What?”

Tendou’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. He stared down at Semi and then averted his gaze, just slightly. “I need to know… before this happens, I need to know what it is.” 

Semi bit back a sarcastic comment and waited.

“If it’s a one-time thing,” said Tendou, the words rushed, “that’s fine, I won’t complain, but… but I need to know now, so I won’t expect anything else. If this doesn’t mean anything to you, if it’s just sex, you’ve gotta tell me. I’ll still do it, I still want to, I just… don’t want to get my hopes up. For anything more.”

Something went tight in Semi’s chest. He pulled his hands away from Tendou’s and let them fall limply at his sides. Tendou watched him, a little uncertain, his face still flushed.

“It’s…” Semi tried to put a sentence together and couldn’t quite do it. He closed his eyes so he couldn’t see the way Tendou was looking at him. He didn’t know what this was. He hadn’t let himself think about it. 

There was a tickle against Semi’s temple, gentle fingers tucking his hair back.

“You don’t have to answer,” mumbled Tendou. “It’s okay. I shouldn’t have asked.”

Semi curled a hand around Tendou’s wrist, took a breath, and made himself open his eyes. “It’s not just sex. I don’t know… what it is, exactly, but it’s not just sex.”

“Okay,” said Tendou, so quietly that Semi barely heard. “Okay.”

Semi ducked his head to rest his forehead against Tendou’s bony knee. “You ruined the moment.”

There was a second of silence before Tendou laughed. His hand threaded through Semi’s hair and twisted lightly. “Sorry, Semi-Semi. Want me to talk dirty to you or something, to get the mood back?”

“Yeah, right. As if you’ve ever talked dirty to anyone in your whole life.”

“I could probably fake it.”

“I doubt it.” 

“You do it then, if you’re so sure.”

Semi raised his head, met Tendou’s eyes, and didn’t look away. His voice dipped low as he said, “Take your pants off. I want to feel your cock in my throat.”

Tendou’s eyes were wide, unblinking. “…Oh.”

Semi yanked at the leg of Tendou’s sweats. “Seriously.”

“Right. Yeah. Okay.” Tendou leaned back on an elbow and clumsily worked his pants down his hips with Semi’s help. He sat back up when he was bare, hands hovering at his lap and then falling away at his sides. Semi sat up on his knees and pushed Tendou’s thighs further apart.

“I’ve seen you hanging off a pole in a g-string a hundred times,” said Semi. “This shouldn’t embarrass you.”

“I’m not embarrassed.” 

“Then why are you so twitchy?”

“I’m not twitchy, I’m-!” His voice broke off as Semi ducked his head and sucked Tendou into his mouth all at once. Tendou made a choking noise that sounded almost like “ _ Semi _ .”

Semi bobbed his head, sucking up to the tip of Tendou’s cock and sinking down again. It was long enough to push at the back of his throat but he relaxed his jaw and took it, tilting his head up just enough to watch the twist of Tendou’s expression. His face had gone redder, mouth slightly open, wide eyes transfixed on Semi.

Semi hollowed his cheeks and sucked harder until Tendou’s thighs shivered under his hands. Long fingers threaded through Semi’s hair. They were careful; holding, not pulling. 

“Semi.” It was a low whisper, but the abridged moan that followed was louder. “Semi, that’s good. That’s great. You’re gonna have to stop.”

Semi pulled off and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I just started.”

“Well you can keep going but you need to be… less good at it.”

Semi snorted and planted his hands on Tendou’s knees, pushing himself to his feet. “Fine. You have lube and shit around here somewhere?”

“Yeah, it’s…” Tendou’s gesture was vague, but it was sufficient. 

Semi yanked open a dresser drawer and dug through the litter of contents, squinting in the low light. When he turned back, Tendou hadn’t moved.

“Stop staring at me and lie down,” said Semi. He shuffled out of his underwear and kicked them off to the side. He paced back toward the bed and stopped in front of Tendou, who still hadn’t moved.

Tendou reached out and rested a hand at Semi’s bare hip. He started to speak, stopped, and then said, “Your dick is pierced.”

“No shit,” said Semi, smacking his hand away. “I said lie down.”

“Excuse me for needing a minute to process  _ this _ .” He waved a hand at Semi’s groin, although his eyes were stuck at Semi’s face. “You could give someone a heart attack, looking like that.”

“Wait until I’m riding you,” said Semi, giving Tendou’s shoulder a push. “Have your heart attack then. For now, move.”

Tendou made a low sound, but did as Semi said. He scooted away from the edge and leaned back on his elbows, watching as Semi climbed onto the bed and crawled on top of him. Semi stayed up on his knees, tossed a condom aside, and popped open the lube he’d fished out of Tendou’s dresser.

“I can, uh… if you want me to do that, I…” Tendou trailed off. The sentence was fragmented, but Semi knew what he meant. 

“I’ve got it,” said Semi. He dripped lube on his fingers and lowered himself over Tendou. He braced his weight on his knees, bracketing Tendou’s waist, and pressed a forearm into the bed near Tendou’s shoulder. He leaned down for a kiss and Tendou returned it with enthusiasm, his tongue slipping between Semi’s lips and prodding at Semi’s teeth. Semi pushed a finger into himself and exhaled into Tendou’s mouth as it slipped inside. Tendou kissed him harder and touched Semi’s chest, sliding down over his stomach, his knuckles brushing Semi’s cock. 

Semi made a muffled sound against Tendou’s mouth to encourage him. Long fingers curled around Semi’s length, squeezing lightly, a thumb rubbing at the head of his cock and then dipping to graze the bar of metal just beneath it. Semi jerked in his hand and moaned low as he shoved a second finger inside himself.

“I didn’t know I was into piercings,” said Tendou, his voice a little weak, “but I’m definitely into them.” 

Semi kissed him again, so he would stop talking. He rocked in Tendou’s hand and back against his own fingers, spreading and stretching them as he pulled out and pushed in again. He squeezed in a third and his gasp was lost in Tendou’s mouth. 

Semi groaned under his breath, pressed deep into himself, and slowly pulled out. He braced himself on both hands, not caring about the smear of lube on the sheets. “You want to see something?”

Tendou stared up at him, fixated. “Sure.”

Semi’s hand folded over Tendou’s, still on Semi’s dick, and guided it lower. His fingertips brushed against Semi’s balls, searching, until they found a pair of metal loops.

Tendou’s head fell back and he made a strangled sound as Semi pushed his hand away.

“I’m gonna die here,” said Tendou, as Semi pawed around for the condom. “This is how it ends.”

“Shut up,” said Semi without heat. He struggled with the condom, his lube-slick fingers making it impossible. He caught the corner of it with his teeth and ripped it open. “I’m putting this on for you, hold still.”

Tendou twitched up against Semi’s fingers as he rolled the condom on. Semi squeezed a fist around Tendou’s cock, pumping it a few times to spread the leftover lube. Tendou’s hips rocked with him. 

“Don’t move,” said Semi, as he straddled Tendou. “I’ll tell you when you can.”

“Okay. Sure. Whatever you say.”

Semi reached beneath himself and wrapped a hand around the base of Tendou’s cock as he slowly sank back. He sucked in a breath through his teeth as it pushed inside of him, stretching him further than his fingers had. He rocked his hips slowly as he sat back, taking it a little at a time. Tendou watched him, unblinking.

When Semi settled all the way back, sitting on Tendou’s hips, he released a breath that he felt down to his bones. “Fuck.”

Tendou’s hands grazed Semi’s knees and traveled up to rest on his thighs. His eyes were darker with his stage makeup, almost smoky. Red glitter danced along his cheekbones, almost glowing in the shadowed room. “You feel amazing, Semi-Semi.”

“I haven’t even done anything yet.”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s still true.”

“You’re easy to please,” said Semi. He pushed his hair back trailed a hand down his jaw and then his neck, moving it over his chest, a thumb flicking against the silver bar in his nipple. Tendou’s eyes followed it, his cock twitching inside of Semi.

“Only because it’s you,” said Tendou, as Semi started moving.

Semi rocked his hips slowly at first, adjusting to the full feeling of Tendou inside him. When he was comfortable he picked up the pace, his ass smacking back against Tendou’s thighs, breath coming sharp as Tendou’s cock struck deeper.

Tendou gripped Semi’s hips as he shifted beneath him. He dug his heels in and thrust upward, timing it with Semi’s rhythm, hitting him so deep that Semi couldn’t fight back a low, dragging moan.

“ _ Shit _ , Tendou,” he said, slamming himself back harder. He dropped from his hands to his elbows, bracketing either side of Tendou’s face. “Do that again.”

Tendou did, ramming his hips up and knocking the breath right out of Semi’s chest.

“Fuck.” Semi found Tendou’s mouth and kissed him deep and sloppy with a wet slide of tongue. He grinded back, rolled his hips in a circle, and felt a static crackle of pleasure from where Tendou’s cock was buried deep.

“Can I move?” asked Tendou, breathless. “You said you’d tell me when I can.”

“Yeah.”

Tendou hummed against Semi’s lips and gave him a kiss that lingered. His arms looped around Semi’s waist and rolled him, pushing Semi onto his back. Tendou hovered over him, staring down with piercing eyes and messy hair. 

“You’re gorgeous, Semi-Semi,” said Tendou, his voice low and rough.

Semi felt a jolt at the words and it was only enhanced when Tendou lined himself up and thrust back into him. 

Semi’s head fell back as Tendou fucked into him, the bed squeaking from the force of it.

“That’s not how dirty talk works,” said Semi, pushing the words through his breathlessness.

“Wasn’t trying to be dirty,” said Tendou, ramming in harder. Semi’s back arched off the bed, a hand latching onto Tendou’s shoulder to ground himself. “Just making sure you knew.”

Semi wanted to say something back but he couldn’t. If he opened his mouth he would moan. He kept his lips pressed together and his legs spread apart, gut clenching tighter with each thrust of Tendou’s hips. 

Tendou’s hand reached between them to encircle Semi’s cock, and he tried to thrust up into the touch. 

“Fuck,” said Semi, the word so long and dragging that it was mostly a moan in itself. “I’m close. Fuck me harder.”

Tendou’s hips snapped forward, his cock thrusting deeper, and Semi arched into him.

“Like that,” said Semi, the words choked and messy. “Fuck, just like that. Jerk me off, come on.”

Tendou did as he said. He pumped Semi’s cock with quick, smooth pulls of his wrist and slammed into him so hard that it knocked the breath out of them both. Semi writhed and tried to push into Tendou’s hand. He bit his lip to muffle a low, deep moan as the first pulse of his orgasm rushed through him, filling his veins with white hot sparks. His lip slipped through his teeth and the moan pitched higher as he came in Tendou’s hand, spraying across his own stomach, the force of it making his head foggy. Tendou’s thumb pressed against the metal piercing and Semi’s cock gave one more weak pulse that made Semi’s toes curl. 

He collapsed back against the sheets, hot and sweaty and out of breath, and stared up at Tendou, whose eyes hadn’t left him.

Tendou reached up with his clean hand to brush his knuckles along Semi’s cheekbone before pulling back. “Wow, Semi-Semi. That was… wow.”

Semi sucked in a breath. “You didn’t come yet.”

“Watching you was even better.”

“Shut up.” Semi got his elbows beneath him and struggled upright. Tendou was still inside of him and he stayed that way as Semi rolled them, perching on top of Tendou’s hips with warm come dripping down his stomach. “Hold onto something.”

“You don’t have to do this. I can just-”

Semi pushed up on his knees, hovered there for the briefest second, and then dropped himself down on Tendou’s cock. Tendou bucked up against him, his hand clawing into a grip on Semi’s waist as he did it again. 

“ _ Semi _ …”

Semi rode him hard, teeth clenched, ignoring the discomfort of oversensitivity. Tendou was hot and solid inside of him, his breath coming fast, hands sweaty where they latched onto the outsides of Semi’s thighs.

Semi pressed his hands onto the bed beside Tendou’s shoulders, rocked himself back against Tendou, and grinded down onto him until Tendou whimpered. Semi lowered his head and caught Tendou’s ear with his teeth, pulled gently, and released it to whisper, “You gonna come inside me, Satori?”

Tendou went rigid beneath him, his hips jerking up as he came, and Semi felt the twitch of Tendou’s cock inside him. He rocked against Tendou more gently until he collapsed back on the bed, boneless. 

Semi pushed himself up, Tendou’s dick sliding out of him, and sat with a huff. 

Tendou rolled his head to the side to watch Semi, his chest heaving. “Damn.”

“Yeah,” agreed Semi. 

Tendou closed his eyes and went completely limp, catching his breath. Semi considered plopping down beside him but remembered the come on his stomach. 

Tendou groaned and pushed himself halfway up, fumbling with the condom as he peeled it off.

“Shit,” said Semi. “You came hard.”

“Yeah, well,” said Tendou, unashamed, “I think anyone would if you were on top of them.”

“Whatever,” scoffed Semi. He plucked the condom from Tendou’s hand and rolled off the edge of the bed, wincing as he gained his feet. He went into the adjoining bathroom, tossed the condom in the trash, and washed himself off with a crumpled towel. He glanced at himself in the mirror and there was a smear of red glitter across his cheek, courtesy of Tendou’s makeup.

He didn’t try and scrub it off. He left it and returned to the bed, where Tendou hadn’t moved.

Semi stood over him, arms folded. “Hey.”

“Hmm?” Tendou didn’t open his eyes.

“Should I leave?”

That got his attention. Tendou sat up, his hair a wreck, his makeup smeared. “Do you want to leave?”

“Answer my question first.”

Tendou moved to push his hair back but aborted the motion before he got there. “You don’t have to. Not unless that’s what you want.”

Semi continued to stare at him, waiting.

“I’d like if you stayed,” said Tendou, a little more quietly. “I like having you around, Semi-Semi.” His grin pulled high on one side and he added, “especially if you’re gonna be naked like that all night.”

Semi rolled his eyes, but paced over and crawled back onto the bed. It wasn’t completely sanitary, between the smear of lube and the stray spatters of Semi’s come, but Tendou didn’t seem to care, and Semi didn’t either. They lied on their backs, side by side, staring up at the ceiling in companionable silence. It dragged on for so long that Semi thought Tendou had fallen asleep, until there was a quiet whisper of, “Semi-Semi?”

“Yeah?”

Tendou rolled onto his side to face Semi. “Thanks for inviting yourself over. Feel free to do it again anytime.”

Semi huffed a breath. “Yeah, sure.”

“Was that a laugh? Did you just laugh?”

Semi let his head fall to the side to look at Tendou. “I laugh sometimes, asshole. It’s not a big deal.”

“Sure it is,” said Tendou. “I’ve never heard it.”

“Maybe you’re not funny.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m hilarious.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

Tendou pushed himself up, just far enough to lean over Semi. He said, “But really. You know you can come over anytime, right? Not just for sex, for anything.”

Semi didn’t answer. There was a tight, warm feeling in his chest that he didn’t want to acknowledge. 

Tendou kissed him, his lips pressing softly over Semi’s and a hand rising to cup Semi’s jaw. Semi kissed him back, sliding his fingertips along Tendou’s ribs until he shivered.

When Tendou pulled away he said, “Are you really gonna stay, or will you wait until I’m asleep and sneak out?”

The thought had crossed Semi’s mind. He wondered if he was that easy to read. He licked his lips and said, “I’ll stay.”

Tendou grinned at him. “Good. I’ll make you breakfast in the morning and everything, like a good date.”

“Never said it was a date.”

“You picked me up from the theater, took me out to dinner, then followed me home,” said Tendou, flopping back down. “It was a date.”

Semi rolled his eyes, but didn’t argue. There was no point. Tendou wasn’t someone who could be reasoned with.

And when he put it like that, it really did sound like a date.

Semi pondered that for a while, and by the time he fell asleep, he thought maybe having a date with Tendou wasn’t all that bad.


	11. Chapter 11

After a night – and the following morning – at Tendou’s, Semi’s routine went back to normal.

Except there was a lot more of Tendou in it.

“That’s where you get takeout from?” asked Tendou, affronted, from where he was sprawled on Semi’s couch. It was Thursday, two hours before Semi’s shift at Plumage. “That’s disgusting, Semi-Semi. You can do better.”

“Shut the fuck up, Tendou.”

On Saturday, Semi went home with Tendou after work instead of returning to his own apartment. They were both exhausted from a long night of dancing and fell asleep as soon as they collapsed into Tendou’s bed. Semi woke up around four a.m. to discover Tendou curled against him, his chest touching Semi’s back, a gangly arm draped over Semi’s waist. Semi laid awake for a while, wondering what the hell he was doing here, before he finally relaxed against Tendou and went back to sleep.

Semi stayed there all day Sunday, lounging on Tendou’s couch instead of his own. When Semi left that evening Tendou kissed him goodbye, and Semi thought about that all the way home. He had an idea of what it might mean, but he wasn’t sure, and he was afraid to ask.

On Tuesday, Semi got up an hour early to go with Tendou to look at the new apartment he was planning to rent when his lease ended. Semi wasn’t sure why he was even invited, until they were eyeing the shower tile and Tendou said, “I just wanna make sure you like the place as much as I do. I hope you’ll be spending a lot of time here.” Semi didn’t let himself think too far into that until Tendou turned away and murmured to himself, so low that Semi barely heard, “There’s only one bedroom, but we can share.”

Semi went to inspect the kitchen countertops instead, so Tendou wouldn’t see the heat burning on his face. 

On Thursday night, fifteen minutes before Plumage closed, Semi went to his dressing room to change and found Tendou already there, swiveling around in his usual chair, a beanie pulled low over his flat hair.

“Heya, Semi-Semi. Good work tonight. Your ass looks great in those shorts.”

“You were looking at my ass again,” said Semi, as he leaned against the wall to yank his boots off. “Big surprise.”

“Can you blame me? Don’t get me wrong, I was looking at the rest of you, too. Your ass just makes a statement.”

Thirty seconds later Tendou was up against the wall, a fist balled in his shirt and Semi’s tongue in his mouth. 

The last time they’d done this it had been an impulsive decision, on Semi’s part. This time he knew what he was doing, had done it before, and had every intention of doing it again.

The thought stopped him dead. He pulled back to blink at Tendou, a soft breath sliding between his lips.

“What?” said Tendou. His eyelids were heavy, hands hooked at Semi’s hips. 

Semi just stared at him. He hadn’t let himself think too hard about this Tendou thing, whatever it was. He was just going along with it, rolling with the tide, waiting to see what would happen. He hadn’t committed to anything and hadn’t let himself wonder if it would last.

But his thoughts were traitorous, and he realized with a lurch in his gut and a pinch in his chest that he did want it to last. He wanted to be doing the same thing next week, next month, maybe longer.

This was dangerous territory, and Semi knew better. He’d been here before and had promised himself he wouldn’t be here again. Now that he realized it, he had to stop. He had to get out of this situation, get as far away from Tendou as possible. He could quit Plumage and work at a different club, somewhere the other dancers would ignore him the same as he ignored them.

“Semi?” Tendou touched his face gently, snapping him out of his head. “What’s wrong?” There was concern reflected in his eyes, as clearly as if it was printed across his face.

Semi needed to step back, to get away, to stop this before it could get worse.

But his hand only curled more tightly in the front of Tendou’s shirt, crumpling it.

This had always been a bad idea in the past, and maybe it still was. But this was different. Tendou was different.

He remembered going to Tendou’s apartment and admitting he didn’t trust anyone. Tendou had said, sincerely,  _ I guess I’ll have to try harder _ .

Something about it had worked. Semi tried to imagine Tendou stabbing him in the back,or using him and leaving him, and he couldn’t. He couldn’t picture a single scenario in which Tendou would intentionally hurt him. He wasn’t that kind of person. Semi had only met him a few months ago, but it was long enough for him to know.

Maybe he was wrong. Maybe this would end badly.

Maybe, but there was only one way to find out.

“Nothing,” said Semi, the answer belated. He moved close to Tendou and slid a hand beneath his beanie to clutch at his hair. “Nothing’s wrong. Kiss me.”

Tendou did and Semi melted into it, pressed against him from chest to hips to thighs. Semi kissed him deeply, tilted his head for a better angle, and slipped a hand between them to rub at the front of Tendou’s pants. Tendou hummed a moan against Semi’s mouth and rocked against his hand, his own fingers latching into the back of Semi’s harness and holding tight.

The dressing room door slammed open. “Yo Semi, did you see… Oh shit.”

A string of saliva clung to Semi’s mouth as he broke away. Yamagata stared at the pair of them with dawning horror. His eyes moved down, to the hand still pressed against Tendou’s dick, and then back up again.

“Oh shit,” Yamagata repeated. “I’ll just, uh… go, and…” He trailed off awkwardly and made a stumbling retreat. Five seconds later he returned to yank the door closed.

Semi stared after him, dread sinking in his gut. “Fuck.”

Tendou said nothing. He hadn’t moved.

“He won’t tell anyone, right?” said Semi. 

“Yeah, no, of course not,” said Tendou. “Hayato’s great at keeping secrets. He’s a steel trap.”

Semi eyed him. “Are you lying?”

“Totally lying. He couldn’t keep a secret to save his own life.”

Semi sighed and pressed his forehead against Tendou’s shoulder. He pulled his hand away from Tendou’s dick. The mood was ruined. “What’ll happen?”

“What do you mean?”

“With Ushijima. Will he be mad?”

The hand on Semi’s back traveled higher, carding through his hair. “Nah, I don’t think so. As long as we keep it off the stage while we’re working, it shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Should we… stop?” asked Semi, the question hesitant.

Tendou’s fingers curled in the loose strands of Semi’s hair. “Do you want to?”

Semi breathed in. Tendou smelled clean, like the laundry detergent he’d washed Semi’s clothes in when he’d stayed over. “No.”

“Okay then,” said Tendou. “We won’t.”

They stayed like that for a while, just existing in each other’s space. 

Eventually Tendou said, “Do you want to come over?”

“Yeah.”

When Semi arrived at Plumage the following night, it was with a small amount of apprehension. Despite what Tendou had said, he was still afraid that something bad would happen because of what they’d been doing, or that one of them would be forced to quit. Semi remembered a while back when Tendou had promised he would do it, if one of them had to. But Semi wouldn’t make him, not when Tendou had been here for so long, not when the other dancers were Tendou’s family.

Semi entered quietly and kept his head down as if braced for an explosion. Several dancers were already there, chatting at the tables and waiting for the club to open. No one spared any extra attention for Semi as he crossed the floor to disappear behind the curtain toward his dressing room. He breathed a little easier, until he almost ran directly into Yamagata when he turned the corner.

They stared at each other, equally startled. A slight flush rose to dust Yamagata’s cheeks and he rubbed a hand across his face as if trying to wipe it away. 

“Hey, uh… sorry for barging in yesterday,” he said, not looking directly at Semi. “My bad.”

“It’s okay,” said Semi, carefully. 

“So do you do…  _ that _ … with any of the other dancers, or…?”

Now it was Semi’s face getting warm. “What? No, of course not. Why would you even ask that?”

“I don’t know! It seems like a valid question!” Yamagata pressed his hands over his face. “Shit. I’m sorry. I just didn’t think… I mean, yeah, maybe, but… but  _ Tendou _ , and it’s… Fuck.”

Semi had no idea what he was talking about. He didn’t think he really wanted to know. “Don’t make it weird, Hayato.”

“I’m not. Okay. I’m sorry.” Yamagata slapped his hands down to his sides, drawing himself up to meet Semi’s eyes. “I’m done. I’m over it. You’re fucking Tendou, it’s fine, it’s cool. Good for you.”

Semi snorted, the corner of his mouth curling upward. “I can’t tell if you’re disgusted or jealous.”

Yamagata sputtered over a response until Semi’s mouth tilted higher. “Wait. Was that a joke? What the fuck, I didn’t know you could make a joke. Getting laid must be good for you, dude.”

Now it was Semi’s turn to choke over an answer, and while he struggled, Yamagata grinned. 

“Don’t worry about it, man.” Yamagata patted him on the shoulder. “It just caught me off guard, you know? But really, it’s cool. Do whatever makes you happy. Or… whoever makes you happy, I guess. Just stay on good terms. If things end badly it’ll be awkward because I’ll have to stay friends with both of you.” 

He sidestepped Semi to head toward the main area of the club, and Semi took a moment to collect himself before going to his dressing room.

Tendou was already there. Semi realized, distantly, that he was happy to see him.

He wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

“Good evening, Semi-Semi,” said Tendou. He was sprawled in one of the chairs, half-dressed, long legs dangling. “I haven’t seen you in ages.”

“I saw you earlier today.”

“ _ Ages _ .”

Semi shook his head and shrugged off his jacket. “I literally left your apartment two hours ago.”

“I said what I said.”

Semi peeled his pants down his hips and sat to tug them the rest of the way off. “Has Ushijima said anything to you?”

“Not exactly.”

Semi went still. “What does that mean?”

“Well we all know Hayato was gonna tell him. I figured it would be better coming from me so I talked to him about it already. Told him Hayato walked in on us making out, that it wasn’t a big deal, whatever.”

“And?”

“He was fine with it, just like I thought,” said Tendou. He rose from his chair and wandered over to help Semi yank his pants from around his ankles. “He reminded me of the stage rules and stuff. I said I know. Then he told me to tell you that if we end up hating each other, your job is safe, blah blah blah. Turns out you’re easy to read.”

Semi was more relieved by that than he should have been. “Oh. Good.”

“It won’t matter, though. It won’t happen. Even if we stop doing  _ this _ ,” he said, gesturing between them, “I won’t hate you. We talked about that already, remember?”

“Yeah, I remember.”

“Good. C’mon, get ready. We open in ten.”

The night was normal. Semi danced, collected tips, and danced some more. Tendou gave him suggestive looks every time they passed each other coming on or off the stage, but Semi rolled his eyes and ignored it. 

Nothing was different, until Kawanishi approached him when he’d stepped back into the main area after a private dance.

“Hayato says you fucked Tendou in your dressing room,” he said without preamble, completely straight-faced.

Semi glared across the room where Yamagata was on stage, grinding against the floor. “Did he?”

“I told him two months ago it would happen,” said Kawanishi, following Semi’s stare. “Thanks for proving me right.” With that he walked away and Semi was left staring after him, confused. He stayed like that until the song shifted and then he wandered over to a nearby table where Oohira was seated, taking a break before his next dance. 

“Hey, Semi. How’s it going?”

“Fine, I guess,” said Semi, dropping into a chair. At least Oohira wouldn’t gossip about Semi’s sex life.

That’s what he thought, anyway.

“So you and Tendou,” said Oohira with a surprising amount of politeness.

Semi almost stood up and walked away.

“Sorry,” said Oohira. He must have read that on Semi’s face. “It’s none of my business.”

“Apparently it’s everyone’s business. Might as well be yours, too.”

“I think it’s nice. Tendou seemed happy about it when he told me.” 

“Wait, Hayato didn’t tell you?”

“Well yes, but Tendou told me first, about a week ago.”

Semi tried to find Tendou among the crowd so he could glare at him, too.

“Are you dating, then?” asked Oohira, still so politely that Semi couldn’t even be mad.

“I… don’t know.” Semi thought about that, long enough that the song shifted again and Tendou climbed on stage. Semi watched him, tracking every spin and split and drop. Finally, he said, “I think we are.”

Oohira hummed. “That’s great. You should probably tell Tendou, so he’ll stop worrying over it. He isn’t sure, either.”

Semi was surprised, but only for a moment. He sighed and slumped over the table, resting his weight on his elbows. “He’s an idiot.”

“Is that what you think?”

“No.”

Oohira smiled. “I think the two of you are good for each other. It’s a nice balance. You seem happier too, compared to when you started.”

“Yeah,” said Semi. “I guess I am.” That wasn’t only because of Tendou, but Semi couldn’t deny that much of it was a direct result. 

The song changed again and Oohira rose to take his turn on stage. He patted Semi on the shoulder the same way that Yamagata had done and strode away. 

From the stage, Tendou caught Semi’s eye and gave him an obnoxious wave paired with a wink that wasn’t really a wink because both of his eyes closed. Semi waited until Tendou turned away before he smiled.

They went to the izakaya that night and everything was normal. Yamagata had gotten over his awkwardness, Kawanishi was no more sarcastic with Semi than he was with everyone else, and Ushijima acted as if nothing had changed. The only difference was that Tendou sat a little closer, and when they’d been there for a while and Semi was starting to get sleepy-eyed, a long arm draped over his shoulders. “Ready to head out, Semi-Semi?” he said. 

Yamagata stared at them from across the table, a drink halfway to his mouth.

Semi ignored him. “Yeah, sure.”

The night was warm. Semi reached for his hood automatically, but pushed it back off again. The wind felt good against his face and Tendou’s arm felt good looped through his own. 

They were about a block away when Semi said, “So we’re basically dating, right?”

Tendou scuffed to a stop. He stared at Semi, his skin even paler beneath the harsh glow of a street lamp. “Umm. Maybe. Are we?”

Semi shrugged, trying to be nonchalant despite the heat creeping into his face. “Feels like it. Is that what you want?”

“Is that what  _ you  _ want?” said Tendou, pushing the question back at him.

“I asked you first.”

Tendou slipped his arm out of Semi’s and turned to face him. “Well obviously I want to. I’ve made it pretty clear. But we don’t have to. It depends on what you.”

Semi rolled his eyes and snagged Tendou’s arm again. He started walking and Tendou had no choice but to do the same. “Fine. Guess we’re dating then.”

Tendou blinked at him but didn’t say anything.

They walked to Tendou’s apartment, and every time Semi glanced over, Tendou was smiling. 

Tendou moved into his new place two weeks later. It was nicer than anywhere Semi had ever stayed. Everything was pristine and the other residents they passed when moving Tendou’s stuff in were well-dressed and polite. Semi couldn’t imagine how it would feel to live in a place like that instead of a badly kept apartment building like his own.

Semi spent the night there. He helped Tendou arrange his furniture just right and sat back to watch as Tendou hung an eclectic selection of paintings on the wall. There was no unease of being in a new place. He was at peace, relaxed. He wondered if it was the atmosphere of the apartment or just Tendou.

“Is that straight?” asked Tendou, stepping back to eye a canvas of a neon cityscape.

“No, it’s crooked as shit.”

Tendou grinned at him. “Good. Don’t want anything to be too perfect.”

Semi snorted. “That’s stupid.”

“Is it?” asked Tendou. He ambled across the room and leaned over the couch to cage Semi between his arms. “Perfect is boring, Semi-Semi. Everybody thinks they want to be perfect but they don’t. Nobody really likes perfect once they see it for the first time.”

“You saying I’m not perfect?” said Semi, raising a brow.

“Nope,” said Tendou. “You’re absolutely not. But you’re closer than anyone ever should be.”

Semi squinted up at him. “I can’t decide if that’s an insult.”

Tendou laughed and bent lower to kiss him. 

They stayed up too late unpacking. Semi didn’t care but it was Sunday, and Tendou had practice the next day. Semi finally forced him to get in bed at two a.m. 

Unfortunately, he didn’t have the resolve to force Tendou to go to sleep.

“ _ Fuck _ ,” hissed Semi, as Tendou grazed his teeth along Semi’s throat, a hand curled tight around Semi’s cock. “Shit. If you’re going to get me off then get me off. Stop teasing.”

Tendou hummed and licked up the side of Semi’s neck. “But I like you like this, Semi-Semi. You’re gorgeous, you know?” He twisted his wrist and dragged a moan out of Semi. “And I like the sounds you make.”

“You’re an asshole – fuck –  _ ah - _ ”

Tendou moved lower, caught Semi’s nipple piercing between his teeth, and tugged.

It was over quickly after that.

Shortly after they were cleaned up and sprawled beneath the sheets, with one of Semi’s legs tangled into Tendou’s and one of Tendou’s long, gangly arms flung across Semi’s chest.

Semi was more exhausted than he should have been, considering this wasn’t even past his usual bedtime. He thought it must have been the moving. It was by far more tiring than a night of dancing.

“Eita?”

Semi took a breath and forced himself not to react. Tendou had started using his given name on occasion, very sparingly. Every time he said it there was a twisting spasm in Semi’s chest that felt like his heart was being crushed a little at a time. “Yeah?”

“You know you can move in with me if you want,” said Tendou quietly. Semi’s eyes were closed but he felt Tendou looking at him. “I like having you around.”

“I can’t, Tendou,” said Semi. He pretended it didn’t hurt him to say it.

“You can’t, or you don’t want to?”

Semi hesitated. “I can’t.”

“Do you wanna tell me why?”

“If something happens between us,” said Semi slowly, “something bad, I won’t have anywhere to go. I’ll be out on the street and I’ve done that before. I’m not doing it again.”

“You know I’d never kick you out like that. I don’t think anything’s going to happen… I really hope it doesn’t… but even if it did, you could stay here as long as you needed to, until you found somewhere. You know that, right?”

Semi found Tendou’s hand and let his own rest on top of it. He said, quietly, “Yeah. I know.”

Tendou didn’t ask again. He probably didn’t want to make Semi uncomfortable. Semi didn’t mention it either, but every time he stayed over – which was at least a few nights each week – he couldn’t stop himself from thinking about it. He slept better at Tendou’s. The water was warmer, the neighbors were quieter, and he didn’t have to worry about walking in on a drug deal every time he stepped out into the hallway. 

He just wasn’t sure if he could let himself trust someone enough to live with them. He’d never done it before and had promised himself that he would never do it. He’d watched lots of people get into bad situations when they let themselves rely too much on someone else. He didn’t want to turn out like that.

His stubbornness bought him three months. Three months of spending just as much time at Tendou’s apartment as he did at his own. Three months of learning little details about Tendou, like that he loved cats but was highly allergic, and that he sometimes talked absolute nonsense in his sleep, and that he liked his coffee with two cream and four sugar. Semi knew that specifically because he always got up to make coffee on the days he stayed over.

Three months after Tendou moved into that apartment, Semi did the same. He didn’t ask permission. One day he said “I’m moving my stuff in next week,” and Tendou grinned and pointed out the drawers he’d left empty for Semi’s personal use.

Semi left most of his stuff behind in the decrepit apartment he’d be happy to never see again: the couch he’d dragged around for years, the sheets he’d bought on clearance because there was a hole along the seam, and the battered dishware he never used because he always got takeout or ate at Tendou’s. He packed everything important into the back of a taxi and moved it in one trip. It took an hour and a half to tuck his things away in his half of the dresser drawers, or hang them in his half of the wardrobe. An hour and a half, and he officially lived with Tendou. With his boyfriend.

He was a little anxious, but not as much as he thought he would be. Especially not when Tendou looped his arms around Semi’s waist and kissed the back of his neck. 

“Now you’ve done it,” said Tendou, his grin evident in his voice. “You’re stuck with me forever.”

“I don’t know,” said Semi. He rested his arms on top of Tendou’s. “Maybe you’re the one who’s stuck with me.”

“Nowhere else I’d rather be.”

A month went by. Then two, then three.

Nothing bad happened between Semi and Tendou.

They bickered and argued and fought, with varying levels of frequency, but it was never over anything serious. The cleanliness of the kitchen, whose turn it was to do the laundry, the insane amount of red hair clogging the drain. Disagreements usually ended with a few sharply honed comments, twisting like a dagger when they came from Tendou and piercing like a bullet when they came from Semi. The tension would linger, grow, and peak when one of them got shoved against a wall and kissed breathless.

Semi didn’t think this was how normal relationships worked. He’d never had one, so he couldn’t say for sure. But if it wasn’t, he thought he didn’t want a normal relationship.

It was almost a year after Semi had first started at Plumage that he and Tendou arrived for their shift together, arguing over who would clean up the apartment that weekend.

The argument wasn’t going as anyone else would expect.

“You have a new show starting Monday,” said Semi, shoving past Tendou to grab the club door and yank it open, waving him inside. “You need to practice and rest and shit. I’ll do it.”

“You work every day, Eita.” Tendou rolled his eyes as he slouched through the door. “You’re the one who needs to rest. We both know you’ve been staying up too late this week.”

“Fuck off.”

The words were harsh, but Tendou’s grin was fond. “Fifty-fifty, then. When we wake up tomorrow.”

Semi huffed and reluctantly agreed. “Fine. Fifty-fifty.”

Ushijima was behind the bar, setting up for the night. Tendou started that direction, and since they’d arrived early, Semi followed. Tendou hopped up on a chair and Semi mimicked him, leaning his elbows on the bar.

“Hiya, Wakatoshi!” said Tendou brightly. He paused, then added, “What’s wrong?”

Ushijima looked the same as always, but even Semi could see the slight shift of his face. There were extra lines cut into his brow and more tension tightening his jaw.

“I was forced to fire the bartender,” said Ushijima.

Tendou breathed a sigh. “Finally. We’ve been telling you to get rid of him for months, Waka.”

“I do not like firing anyone when they are doing their best.”

“Yeah, but he wasn’t doing his best,” said Semi. “He sucked.”

Ushijima inclined his head. “Perhaps. Finding a replacement will be difficult. There is never a promising applicant pool.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll get someone even better,” said Tendou, flashing him a thumbs-up. “Couldn’t get much worse, honestly. If they just show up for their shifts they’ll already be better.”

“We will see,” said Ushijima. He turned away to unload the dishwasher.

“Guess Wakatoshi has to run the bar by himself all night,” said Semi. “Hope he finds somebody soon.”

“Yeah,” said Tendou. He tilted his head and there was a gleam in his eyes that Semi had long since identified as dangerous.

“Let’s go get ready, we open soon,” said Semi, choosing to ignore it. He started to slide out of his chair but Tendou grabbed his elbow and yanked him back.

“Hang on, Semi-Semi.”

“Why? I have those new shorts, remember? I need to make sure they won’t pop a seam if I do a split.”

“As much as I’d enjoy watching that,” said Tendou, solemn, “this is more important.”

“Fine, what?”

“Wakatoshi needs a bartender.”

Semi rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I know. I’ve been sitting right here the whole time.”

“He needs a bartender who’s reliable and competent and hot, probably, to make more tips.”

“So?”

“So.” Tendou slumped halfway onto the counter, seemingly casual, but his stare was still intense. “If only there was someone who’s been talking about their future lately. Someone who likes their job but wants something with more stability. Someone who already knows their way around the club and is so gorgeous it makes me want to die.”

Semi tried to stand up but again Tendou reached out and pulled him back. “Don’t be stupid, Satori. I can’t be a bartender.”

“Why not?”

“I’ve never mixed a drink in my life.”

“You could learn. I believe in you.”

“It’s not about that. I’m a dancer. You know that.” He yanked away from Tendou’s grip, but didn’t get very far. Only two steps before Tendou’s voice drew him back.

“You don’t have to stop dancing, you know. You can do both. That way you’d have a backup career, just in case. That’s what you’ve always wanted, right?”

Semi turned back, slowly. He squinted at Tendou, trying to detect a hint that he was joking. He seemed serious.

“I do okay dancing on weekends,” said Tendou with a shrug. “You’d do amazing. And you’d make a killing off tips at the bar. The customers love you on the stage and they’d love you behind this counter.” He thumped a hand against it. “We’d probably sell more drinks just because they’d want an excuse to come over here and stare at your ass.”

“Shut up,” mumbled Semi, but it was half-hearted. He was thinking about what Tendou was saying, and it wasn’t as ridiculous as it should be.

“I remember when we first met,” said Tendou, more quietly. “You were worried about relying too much on dancing, even back then. I know you’ll be fine no matter what you do, but if it would make you feel better, or more secure, or whatever… maybe you should consider it.”

Semi knew the exact conversation Tendou was talking about. It felt like a lifetime had passed since then. Tendou had walked Semi home through the haze of a migraine and had waited up for him on his shabby couch. Semi had gotten up the next day and told him more than he’d ever told anybody, about his job and his past and his fears. 

He hadn’t known then why he was saying it, especially not to Tendou.

He understood now.

He wasn’t afraid anymore, not like he’d been back then. He knew he would be okay, no matter what happened, even if he lost his job five minutes from now. Tendou wouldn’t let him starve. Yamagata or Oohira or Ushijima, either. Semi would be just fine.

He would be, but he still thought this was something he could do for himself. He thought maybe he deserved it.

He shuffled closer to Tendou, their shoulders brushing as Semi leaned onto the bar and said, “Hey, Wakatoshi?” 

“Yo, Semi! Hook me up with some shots, yeah?”

“Fuck off, Hayato. Go do your job.”

“That’s mean. I thought we were friends here.”

“I’m not giving you free alcohol.  _ Go _ .”

Yamagata rolled his eyes and turned away, casually flipping Semi off over his shoulder as he walked away from the bar. 

Semi didn’t care. He had bigger concerns.

“Satori, I need you to google how to make a sex on the beach,” said Semi. He leaned across the bar to murmur it to Tendou, who was still in full makeup from his most recent show. There was a pop of color at the corners of his eyes and glitter painted on his lips. “I think the guy was just trying to flirt with me but I agreed so I didn’t have to ask any questions and I have no fucking idea what’s supposed to be in it.”

Tendou grinned and whipped his phone out. “I’ve got you, Semi-Semi. Bartending academy one-oh-one, at your service.”

Semi was too stressed to snap at him. It was his second week behind the bar, and although it was relatively slow for a Wednesday night, he still hadn’t settled into the bartending routine. He wished he was on stage instead, where he was comfortable, where he always knew what to do. He was lost here and it was a new feeling, one that he didn’t like.

“Here,” said Tendou, flipping his phone screen around. “Looks pretty easy. If the guy doesn’t like it, just wink at him or something and he’ll still tip you.”

“Thanks. For the recipe, not the advice. Your advice is fucking terrible.” Semi swept away to grab a glass and Tendou laughed.

It was a long night, but Semi made it through. Not without Ushijima, who finally took mercy on him a few hours into the shift and stepped in to help. Semi tried to learn from him but Ushijima wasn’t a great teacher, and he found himself having to figure out mostly everything on his own.

When the club finally closed, Semi collapsed on the counter with the side of his face pressed against the bar, absolutely exhausted.

“You did good work tonight,” said Ushijima, as he cleared away the last of the empty glasses. 

“I sucked,” mumbled Semi. “You’ll have to fire me just like the last guy.”

“At worst I would ask you to resume dancing full-time,” said Ushijima. “But that will not be necessary. You are learning. Please move, I must wipe down the bar.”

“I’ll get it,” said Semi, straightening to reach for the rag in Ushijima’s hand.

Ushijima shook his head. “Allow me to clean up. Go home and get some rest. Tomorrow night will be busier. I will see you then.”

Semi didn’t argue. He’d learned a while back that arguing with Ushijima was almost as impossible as arguing with Tendou. “Thanks, Wakatoshi.”

He grabbed his jacket from the hook on the wall – he hadn’t even needed to go into the dressing room that night, and he kind of missed that too – and headed toward the door. Tendou was leaning on the edge of the stage to chat with Yamagata, who was upside-down and entangled on one of the poles. Semi remembered the first time Yamagata had asked for help learning a move. He’d come a long way since then. He was nearly as flexible as Semi himself, which was largely a result of Kawanishi forcing him to stretch every night before they left the club. 

Kawanishi was on another pole, sliding through several moves with stunningly smooth transitions. His heels had gotten a little taller over the past year. He was still unwaveringly graceful.

“Satori, ready to go?” said Semi, pausing by the door.

Tendou waved at him in acknowledgment, gave Yamagata a final goodbye, and trotted over. They left together, and the air outside was just cool enough to be refreshing after a night of stress. Semi breathed it in and exhaled heavy enough to have his shoulders slumping.

“I think I made a mistake,” he said, lingering on the sidewalk. “I can’t do this shit. I’m going to keep fucking up until Wakatoshi gets sick of me.”

Tendou’s eyebrows crept a little high. He said, skeptical, “Do you really think that?”

Semi sighed. “No. I guess not.”

Tendou grinned down at him. “You’ll be fine. You’re smarter than you give yourself credit for. Street smarts are just as important as school smarts, you know.”

Semi had heard that before, every time he made a self-deprecating comment about dropping out of high school.

“We’ll see.”

“Yeah, we will,” agreed Tendou. “You’ll be the best bartender the club ever had. Definitely the hottest.”

Semi rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help the slight curve of a grin. “Whatever.”

“You know it’s true.” Tendou leaned in, his smirk growing into a leer. “You could just serve everyone water and they’d still love you. It’s impossible not to, you know.”

“You’re the only one who thinks that.”

“I don’t believe that for a second.” 

Semi reached up to cup the back of Tendou’s neck and pull him closer. “Thanks for helping me out tonight.”

Tendou’s smile went softer. “No problem, Semi-Semi. I’ve always got you. You know that.”

Semi did. He tilted his face up to catch Tendou’s mouth, leaving a kiss there that lingered, feeling the curl of Tendou’s grin. When he broke away he didn’t go far. He still felt Tendou’s breath on his lips and the warmth of Tendou’s hand at his jaw. The neon lights above them, tracing the word  _ Plumage _ , dusted Tendou’s face and glinted against the glitter on his lips. It must have transferred, because Tendou brushed a thumb across Semi’s mouth as if wiping some away.

“Ready?” murmured Tendou.

“Yeah,” said Semi. He took one more kiss; just because he could, just because he wanted to. “Let’s go.”

As they walked away, Semi wondered where he would be if he’d never found his way to Plumage. He could have been anywhere, at any club, in any city. He didn’t know. He would never know for sure, and that was okay. He was here, where he belonged. 

He was home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for staying with me through another fic! All the kudos/comments I've gotten are appreciated so much. I'm so happy the tensemi love is still alive. 💜
> 
> I've started a Yamagata/Kawanishi addition to this series, so if I ever finish it, expect that one, too! 
> 
> Until then, stay safe and thank you. 💜💜


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